


Something Special

by baeconandeggs, emberloey



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Adult Language, Angst, Fantasy, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Violence, tragic backstory and recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 08:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18912982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/emberloey/pseuds/emberloey
Summary: Park Chanyeol from down the hall seemed absolutely perfect—like the kind of guy everyone wanted to fall in love with. Lucky for Baekhyun, he actually did.Of course, there had to be that one little, tiny thing that made Mr. Perfect a bit more...not perfect. Or did it?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** BAE1391  
>  **Disclaimer: baeconandeggs/the mods is/are not the author/s of this story. Authors will be credited and tagged after reveals.** The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
>   
> 
> **Author's Note:** Thank you so much to everyone who’s supported me! All my friends who were also a complete mess while working on this, you all did amazing. Everyone who submitted something, you all did amazing! We made it!! 
> 
> Thank you mods for working with me and my horrible, insane schedule. And special thank you to my betas, S and M for helping me out. Things got a little crazy and intense there at the end but you both were wonderful, working with my unorganization and I’ll forever be grateful.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, and happy reading!

_Revised Warrior Guidelines — Colonels — Battle Sector XVII: Colonels are, under no circumstances, permitted to break ranks or disobey orders no matter the situation unless given explicit permission by no less than two higher ranking Generals. To do so will be seen as treason, the Phoenix will be treated as a traitor to their kind, and shall be condemned accordingly._

“Colonel, do you deny that you disobeyed General Kim’s orders and commanded a retreat of your troops?”

“No.”

“Colonel, do you acknowledge the guideline which you deliberately ignored?”

“Yes, but—”

“Colonel, are you aware of the stripping of your titles, ranks, awards, properties, and such?”

“Can I just—”

“From this point forth!” The Elder rose from his seat upon his raised platform at the front of the room and looked disdainfully down at the Phoenix kneeled before him. “Colonel Park Chanyeol will no longer be considered an ally. He is henceforth stripped of any and all military privileges, and shall be punished with exile in accordance with the Revised Guidelines.”

“This isn’t fair!” The room dropped into tense silence when the Warrior looked up and locked eyes with the Elder. “I was on the front. I had _no_ way of knowing the new guidelines! We were not made aware—”

“It was your _job_ to be aware.” The Elder replied stiffly, eyeing the restless Phoenix below him as though he was an annoying insect—one which needed to be squashed immediately. “You have failed.”

“I kept my soldiers _alive_. Does that count for _anything?”_

“Not when the plans called for you and your troop to be sacrificed, no.”

The guards took advantage of the Warrior’s stunned silence to grab his arms and force him to stand. They held his shoulders and bent his body into an awkward bow towards the platform and then led him out of the room. The Warrior, shocked, allowed himself to be walked out of the grand meeting room and remained silent during the entire journey down to his cell where he would remain until the process of his exile could be carried out.

Chanyeol let out a grunt as he was shoved into his cell, the metal cuffs cutting painfully into his wrists when he reached out to catch himself on the stone wall. His glare shot daggers at the two guards who looked at him smugly, shutting and bolting the door.

“Enjoying yourselves?” He hissed, righting himself and sliding down the ragged stone, ignoring the pain to his bare back for he knew that, in a few hours, it would get so much worse. Chanyeol splayed his long legs out in front of him and rested his chained wrists in his lap.

“The _great_ Colonel Park,” one of them sang, tilting his head coyly to the side, “on the road to _exile_.”

“Where do you think they’ll send him?” The other asked, pocketing the keys and crossing his arms. “Andromeda? Triangulum?”

“I’d _love_ to see him sent to the Milky Way.” The first guard laughed. “Could you imagine _him_ on Earth?” He made the mistake of making eye-contact with the Warrior within the cell, who growled from low in his throat, effectively scaring him into silence.

“Come on,” the one who had locked the door grabbed his comrade’s shoulder and turned him away from the cell, “let’s leave the _traitor_ ,” the horrid title left a bitter taste in Chanyeol’s mouth and made the hair on the back of his neck stand up straight, “to enjoy his last few hours alone.”

The two guards clambered back down the hall and up the stairs, talking and laughing loudly until the heavy slam of the main door dropped the room into an empty silence.

Chanyeol let out a sigh and leaned his head back against the cold stone, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the holding room. He clenched his fists in his lap, stubby nails digging crescents into his rough palms so hard blood seeped out the sides of his closed fists, dripping onto and staining his dark grey pants. A bit of blood was running down his back as well, Chanyeol could feel each trail from every little cut the stone had sliced into his skin. He could see it in his head, the red blood destroying the image of the phoenix he had tattooed on his back.

His tattoo—a badge of honor, given only to those warriors who proved themselves—was the same brilliant red as his blood and took up the entirety of his back, the wings spreading and curling up just over his shoulders.

Chanyeol pushed off the wall and stood up, the chain holding his wrists together clanging and echoing throughout the quiet holding room containing nine other empty cells. Though it hurt with his already injured back, Chanyeol closed his eyes and willed for his wings which joined his body in the same place as the wings on his tattoo and extended far beyond his arm span—nearly double it. They shielded him, warmed him, lit his way—they made him who he was.

And he was about to _lose_ them.

Chanyeol opened his eyes and looked around, drinking in how his cell was now flooded in a dark red light and taking comfort in the natural dilatation of his body. The cell was much too small for them to extend out all the way, but just having them _there_ was enough to help set Chanyeol’s anxious mind at ease.

“They’re beautiful.”

Chanyeol jumped and grabbed the bars on his cell door, searching up and down the hallway for the owner of the scratchy voice. He thought he’d been alone.

“Over here.” A small, frail boy, no older than fifteen and dressed in nothing but a pair of threadbare trousers, stood up from the far corner of the cell directly across from Chanyeol’s. “Hi.”

“Hello.” It took Chanyeol a minute to find his voice and greet the stranger.

“Your wings are breathtaking.” Chanyeol smiled softly and looked down, clearing his throat.

“Thank you.” It was a comment he’d gotten a lot—his wings were larger than average, his red feathers were mixed with a few greys, giving them a soft look—but he still got flustered easily. “How long have you been down here?”

The boy adopted a position similar to Chanyeol’s and he furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Chanyeol took a slow breath and noticed the knobbiness of the boy’s knees and the sunken nature of his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” The boy jutted his chin towards Chanyeol’s wings. “Are you losing them?”

Not trusting his voice to admit it out loud without breaking, Chanyeol simply nodded.

“That’s a shame. It’s been so long since I’ve seen a set of wings like yours—too bad they’ll be gone.”

“And yours…”

“They’ve been gone, well, since the first night I got here. I’m not sure how long ago that was.” The boy turned around and showed Chanyeol his scarred back, black scorch marks where his wings had once been.

“I’m sorry.” Chanyeol said again. The two fell into silence, looking at each other, until Chanyeol, unable to help it, asked “does it hurt?”

“However bad you think it feels, it’s a million times worse.” The boy looked into Chanyeol’s eyes—a broken, faraway look that didn’t match his young features. “Hope it’s fast. Mine wasn’t.”

Chanyeol hung his head, tears blurring his vision but he quickly blinked them away. He _wouldn’t_ cry. He wouldn’t let them break him.

He would be strong. He had to be.

The boy turned and sat back down in the corner of his cell, hiding himself in the shadows once again but Chanyeol remained at his door, gripping the bars tightly in his hands and leaving his wings as open as he could. He fluttered them a few times, shallowly, pathetically, but it still brought a ghost of a smile to his face.

Where would his happiness come from now?

There was no sense of time in the darkness, but Chanyeol figured it couldn’t have been more than a few hours before the main holding door swung open, creaking, and, with a final look over his shoulders to take in the appearance of his wings, Chanyeol willed them away. He looked up to find the same guards who’d brought him down the day before standing expectantly in front of him.

“Have you cried?” One of them asked boldly. “Most people cry.”

“I wish I’d seen him cry.” The other sneered. “He’s so… _tough_. I can’t wait to watch him fall apart.”

Chanyeol stayed silent, clenching his jaw angrily as the guard came forward to unlock his door. “Let’s go, _Colonel_.”

Chanyeol stepped forward and out of his cell, looking indignantly down at the two guards serving as his escorts. “Don’t _touch_ me. I can walk myself.”

“You can, but you won’t.” After re-locking the door, the guards took up a position on either side of the Warrior and grabbed his arms, pulling him roughly and leading him down the hall and up the stairs.

Chanyeol, strong yet terrified and hoping he wasn’t showing it, kept his head held high as he walked through the corridors and up many, many flights of stairs—the exile ceremony always took place at the highest point of their realm, which sat atop the Council of the Elders.

Chanyeol snickered as they rounded a corner and one of the guards let out a distressed moan at the sight of _another_ set of stairs. “And you thought _I’d_ be the one crying.” Years upon years of strict military training kept Chanyeol in shape, and the guards didn’t even have the energy to make a comment as the Warrior pushed ahead and made it to the top of the final landing while the guards were still a flight down.

He waited impatiently and when the guards arrived he was leaning cockily against the side wall, fiddling with the chain connecting his wrist cuffs. “Took you long enough.” He remarked with a smirk, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

“Shut it, _traitor_.” Chanyeol sobered immediately at that word—he _hated_ that word. “Let’s go get this taken care of and get you out of here.”

One of the guards stepped forward to line up a series of dials on a podium by the door, and the large door disappeared through the floor at the correct combination. Chanyeol was tugged through the open doorway, and as soon as they crossed the threshold the door slid up into place with an ominous rumble, one that sealed Chanyeol’s coffin.

Chanyeol had always tried his best to be positive—when hyping his troops, when playing with his niece, when promising his mother that he’d come home from the war, that he’d come back for _her_ , he was always ready to keep an eye out for the bright side of things.

He wasn’t getting out of this one.

He had never felt so _hopeless_ before in his life.

There was a raised platform at the far end of the roof where the Phoenix-made building joined the side of the mountain towering behind it. On it was a low table with two metal loops, and beside the table stood The One which would carry out the wing removal. To his right was a large table, one which was filled with things Chanyeol did not want to look at, did not want to think of coming near his precious, _precious_ wings.

To the right of the stage stood three of the nine Elders, their gold and red ceremonial robes much too festive for the current occasion—but it was tradition to wear them as exiling someone of Chanyeol’s standing was a heightened ceremony in itself.

At the stage’s left stood Chanyeol’s parents, stoically, neither one of them meeting his gaze though it was already painfully obvious that his mother had been crying.

Chanyeol’s steps faltered as they got closer to the stage, and one of the guards pushed him forward by a hand on his back, fingertips deliberately pressing into one of the cuts from the stoned cell. “Not so tough now, are you?”

Chanyeol gritted his teeth and walked forward, standing upright and keeping his face emotionless as one of the guards unlocked his wrists, and then the other guard and The One led him around and forced him to kneel behind the table facing the witnesses, locking his wrists down under the tight metal cuffs.

“Your location of exile has been decided.” The highest ranking of the attending Elders stepped forward and fixed a disgusted gaze on Chanyeol’s form hunched over the table. “ _Earth.”_

It was then that Chanyeol’s mother started crying again, hiding her face in her husband’s chest who held her and shushed her, ignoring the annoyed looks from the Elders who were miffed by the outburst.

“I did nothing wrong.” Chanyeol said again. “I saved hundreds of lives by calling a retreat.”

“You are _not_ permitted to talk.” The Elder snapped at him. “Do not speak. Nothing you say will make any sort off difference.”

“I’m already being exiled.” Chanyeol responded with a bitter laugh. He fixed his gaze on the Elder and smiled at the rage on his face. “I have nothing left to lose.”

“Save your breath.” The Elder got on the stage and fisted Chanyeol’s hair, getting right up in his face and snarling, “I’d rather hear you _screaming_.”

He dropped his head and stepped off the stage as The One picked up a dark knife lined with gold on the blade.

“Your wings.” He said gruffly, gesturing to Chanyeol’s back with the blade.

With a defeated sigh, Chanyeol summoned his wings to his back for the last time. Instinctively, they curled around his body in an attempt to shield him from what was, in his mind, an enemy. Chanyeol basked in their red comfort for a moment longer and then extended them straight back, exposing himself and his wings’ connection point to The One.

“I will give you one decision.” The One said. “Do you want to know how this will happen, or do—”

“Just do it.” Chanyeol gritted out through clenched teeth, his fists balled on the table. Without further prompting, The One began cutting.

 _Agony_. It was so startling that Chanyeol cried out, once, before tightening his jaw again and dropping his head, taking short, shallow breaths and squeezing his fists.

He wouldn’t cry out again. He wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t get the satisfaction.

Chanyeol had done nothing wrong.

It was hard, though. Here Chanyeol was, presented to his parents and the highest-ranking people of his tribe, being stripped of everything that made him one of them. The actual exile would be _nothing_ compared to this. The psychological weight of what was happening was almost worse than the physical cutting of his wings from his body, and combined it was enough to bring tears to his eyes.

Everything that had made him _him_ , that made him a Phoenix, that made him Chanyeol, a Warrior, everything that made him feel safe was soon to be _gone._ His wings, his rocks, the only things he could ever really rely on were leaving him. He had screwed up—he had failed them. He hadn’t lived up to their power, hadn’t deserved their protection, and now he was paying the price.

But for what?

Chanyeol didn’t understand—perhaps exile would be good for him. He didn’t want to be a part of a tribe which chose winning over the safety of their members. He wouldn’t support that. But his wings…

He was brought back to the moment when the last inch of his first wing was ripped from his back, and Chanyeol let out a mix between a groan and a growl. As soon as the rest of the wing was gone blood poured from the jagged edges of where his wing once was and then, satisfaction be damned, Chanyeol let out a sob. And another.

He shut his eyes and focused back on his breathing as The One began cutting his other wing, but his mind was trapped, Chanyeol was unable to distract himself, and he felt each and every push and pull of the knife as it slowly, _slowly_ sliced his wing from his body.

Had the first one been this slow?

Or was it fast?

What was time?

Each time the knife dug downward Chanyeol could feel himself losing his grip on reality. There was blood—so much blood, he could feel it, could practically see it coating his back and over his pants, seeping under them and dripping down onto his feet folded beneath him.

He cracked his eyes and glanced around, searching for a distraction but instead he let out a mournful wail at the sight of his first wing, no longer vibrant and red but rather a dull grey, the previously grey feathers a harsh black lying discarded on the ground. His wings—his powerful, beautiful wings that were his and no one else’s, wings which had earned him his tattoo, wings which had never, _never_ failed him looking so pathetic and so _wrong_ that the dam broke and Chanyeol really started crying.

 _I’m sorry_ , he thought to his wings, to his parents, to his troops he’d saved (though apparently he was supposed to let them die), _I let you down. I’m sorry_.

With a final grunt from The One the second wing was pulled from his back, and Chanyeol watched as it, too, was thrown unceremoniously to the ground on top of the first one, watched as it faded in color until it was nothing more than a dull shadow of what it once was. The one below it, the first to be ripped from him, was already crumbling to ash having been severed from his body’s blood supply for too long.

The One moved away, back to his table where he pulled off his cutting gloves and pulled on a thick, new pair. Chanyeol barely noticed it, though, mourning the loss of his wings and feeling so lonely and so, so vulnerable.

Somewhere Chanyeol found the strength to pick his head up and he skimmed over his parents, unable to look at them and see their heartbroken faces, instead watching as The One fiddled about on the table and then turned to him, a mask covering the lower part of his face though Chanyeol could see the signs of a sinister smirk by the curve of his cheeks.

“My favorite part.” He commented, taking a step towards Chanyeol.

The Warrior looked at his hands, trying to figure out what it was that he was holding and then wishing he didn’t know when he saw it light up.

“No…” Chanyeol whimpered, voice cracking from the strain, “ _please_.”

The One stood directly behind Chanyeol, boots sloshing around in his blood and splashing some of it up onto Chanyeol’s back.

Chanyeol looked up and eyed his parents—his mother was now kneeling on the ground with both her hands over her chest and his father standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders.

Chanyeol opened his mouth to apologize to them out loud when The One set his back aflame and it was then that all remaining strength, any and all fight he’d had left disappeared.

The burning was so intense that Chanyeol couldn’t help the pained howl he let out, body instinctively jerking away from the fire and splaying over the table, crushing his arms awkwardly beneath his chest but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not now while his _back was on fire_.

Everything after that was a big blur.

Chanyeol remembered peering through his tears to see his mother sobbing on the ground, his father yelling and trying to push through guards who held him back.

The remains of his other wing were lit then.

The last thing Chanyeol remembered was white-hot pain and then someone screamed, probably him, and then nothing.

Just black.

Black as the marks on his back.


	2. Something Different

For Baekhyun, every day was the same thing. Since the day he’d graduated from nursing school, Baekhyun had worked, and worked, and _worked_ until every week bled into the next and he yearned for something different.

He was bored.

His neighbors were friendly enough. Dear widowed Mrs. Jung across the hall invited him over for tea nearly every day he wasn’t working. A young couple next door, Yixing and Junmyeon, were out on their honeymoon but otherwise nothing but sweet, always greeting Baekhyun kindly in the halls and inviting him over for dinner a couple times a month. Baekhyun always said yes when single mom Joohyun called him to watch her kids if he wasn’t working, which earned him a platter of heavenly brownies the next day delivered by her twins Sooyoung and Yerim. Elderly Mr. Moon, in the apartment right by the elevator, seemed to have a new story to tell every time Baekhyun saw him along with some unnecessary, albeit interesting, life advice. Zhoumi and Victoria, from the end of the hall, had just moved out with their three kids, but when they’d still lived in the building Victoria never failed to invite him over for a couple hours of gossip and Zhoumi never failed to smack him over the head when he admitted his sleep schedule, or lack thereof.

The people he lived around were enough to just keep his head above water, keep him from drowning in work.

It wasn’t that he was _unhappy_ , per se. He was just sort of lonely.

===

Baekhyun’s something different came at around seven in the morning as Baekhyun, exhausted, was stumbling out of the elevator and down the hall toward his apartment after working a double shift at the hospital.

He swung his backpack off his back and searched through the front pocket for his keys, unable to keep his eyes open as he leaned against the wall to keep himself upright.

It had been a long night.

Just before he was supposed to get off, the hospital got a warning call—there had been a fire at a large apartment complex and half an hour later the emergency room was _full_ of people, ranging from smoke inhalation to second and third-degree burns. Baekhyun had stuck with a friend of his, Doctor Kim Minseok, and together the two of them tended to who knows how many burn victims.

His hands were still shaking and Baekhyun cursed under his breath. The adrenaline of the night was wearing down and he could _feel_ his keys between his fingers, he just couldn’t _grab_ them.

“ _Fuck._ ” Baekhyun whispered (if Mrs. Jung knew he used that kind of language he’d get his mouth washed with soap, and she had ears like a hawk) as he dropped to his knees and ripped the pocket of his backpack all the way open, squinting through the terrible lighting of the hallway to try and find the silver glint of his house key. “Where are you?”

It took an embarrassingly long time for Baekhyun to finally grab his keys and drop them on the floor, rubbing the heels of his hands in his eyes for a minute—hopefully enough to wake himself up.

He sat on the ground while he waited for the world to stop spinning. Baekhyun hadn’t eaten anything since halfway through his first shift, adrenaline not letting him think about anything but helping the next patient. Now, though, as he could barely force himself up off the ground, he couldn’t decide what was more important; sleep, shower, or food.

Right as Baekhyun was considering just passing out on the floor in the hallway—they did vacuum it twice a week, it couldn’t be completely filthy—a voice cut through the gentle buzzing in his ear.

“Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Baekhyun pulled his hands from his eyes and used the wall to push off the ground. “I’m fine—you’re…new?” He cocked his head and his eyes swept over the stranger’s body.

A tall, well-built man with flaming red hair was standing in front of him, looking down at his exhausted frame with slight worry in his eyes.

“I moved in at the end of the hall,” the stranger pointed behind him with his thumb, at Victoria and Zhoumi’s old place. “Do you need any help?”

“Honestly?” Baekhyun sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes half-open. “Do you think you can unlock my door for me? I just worked a double shift and my hands aren’t coordinated enough to slip my key into an opening that small.”

“I’ve got you.” The man bent over to pick up Baekhyun’s key and backpack, and through his haze Baekhyun happened to notice how firm of an ass he had. “I’m Chanyeol, by the way.” He slipped the key into the lock and twisted it easily.

“Baekhyun.” Baekhyun lifted his hand in a half-hearted wave. “Thank you.”

“Not that I’m _trying_ to get in your apartment, but do you need me to walk you in or anything? You look like you’re going to pass out any minute.” Chanyeol pushed the door open and pulled the key out, dropping it back into Baekhyun’s bag and zipping it up.

“I’ll be fine. My destination is that couch, five feet away.” Baekhyun took his backpack back and smiled tiredly at Chanyeol. “I’ll meet you again when I’m completely awake and not looking like a complete nutcase, I promise.”

“Hey, trust me, I’ve spent enough time around true nutcases to know that you’re not one—you’re just a _bit_ strange.”

“What a relief.” Baekhyun stepped over the threshold of his apartment. “Thanks again, Chanyeol. I’ll see you around. Goodnight. Or, morning—whatever.”

“Sleep well.”

Baekhyun shut his door and locked it, toed out of his shoes, and flopped face-first down on the couch, promptly passing out the second his head hit the pillow.

It only hit him when he was in the shower how much of an _idiot_ he made himself out to be in front of his very tall, very hot new neighbor who was the youngest single person to move into this building since Baekhyun himself.

“ _Fuck!”_

Oh, well. He hadn’t eaten lunch—was it late enough to be considered dinner? —yet, he could just eat away his frustration.

Like usual.

===

“Have you met Chanyeol yet?” Mrs. Jung asked as she bustled around the kitchen, pulling cookies out of the oven while Baekhyun nursed his tea. She was born in England and married her Korean husband when she was 23 and he was 25 and moved back to the country with him. She stuck around after he died, making friends with everyone she came across by offering them tea— “traditional tea. _We_ do it _right.”_

“In passing.” Baekhyun took a sip and eyes Mrs. Jung suspiciously. She wasn’t one to gossip—that had always been Victoria, and then Yixing took up the position when she moved away. “Have you?”

“Oh, yes. He came by the other day to introduce himself and oh, he’s so sweet—careful, they’re still hot—he brought by brownies. Said he made them himself.” Mrs. Jung set the pan up to cool and then retook her seat across from Baekhyun. “And then, when I mentioned that my tv was going out, he went back and did all the technology stuff I know nothing about and saved me a call to the building electrician!”

Baekhyun grimaced—the building technician was an old, fat man who really didn’t know much about technology at all, yet he still got paid and for some reason the managers kept him around. He was pretty rude, and made lewd comments to almost everyone, no matter their age and no matter if they were single or not. Yixing had nearly ripped him apart when something had been said in passing about Junmyeon, somehow held back by both his then-fiancé and Baekhyun. Baekhyun was glad she was saved a call from that _creep_.

“Call me if you ever do call him, I’ll stay over while he’s here.”

“Oh, thank you, dear. Chanyeol seems to know plenty about that kind of stuff, though, so I’m sure the call won’t be needed.”

Baekhyun hummed as he took another drink of his tea. “It seems he’s always around when people need him.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Jung kicked him below the table. “Care to elaborate?”

Baekhyun sighed. He could practically hear the lecture she was about to start. “I worked a double yesterday—”

“ _Byun Baekhyun!”_ Mrs. Jung interrupted swiftly. “You work too hard, child, my goodness.”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Baekhyun defended himself quickly. “They were calling in the on-calls. If I hadn’t already been there I would’ve ended up there anyway. At least I got paid.”

Mrs. Jung grumbled angrily to herself and put another cookie on his plate. Baekhyun smiled sweetly.

“Anyway, I was exhausted, like, falling asleep in the hallway exhausted, and he just happened to be walking by and valiantly unlocked my apartment door so I could pass out on my couch and not the dingy carpet.” He took another drink of his tea and watched Mrs. Jung over the rim of his cup—he could see her debating whether or not to yell at him for working a double or continue gossiping about their new neighbor.

She made up her mind and sat up straight. “Isn’t he so _tall?”_

Baekhyun groaned. “Mrs. Jung—”

“And his _hair_ , dear, it’s so very interesting.”

“Yes, it is, Mrs. Jung.” Baekhyun tore off a bit of the cookie and chewed it as his neighbor continued gushing.

“And, not that I saw anything, but doesn’t he seem to be fairly strong? His shirt looked awfully tight, and his _shoulders_ , Baekhyun, they’re so _broad_.”

“Are you trying to say something?” Baekhyun narrowed his eyes.

“Well,” Mrs. Jung shrugged her shoulders. “You’ve been single for a while—”

“Oh, _god_ , Mrs. Jung, _no.”_ Baekhyun recoiled, crinkling his nose. “No! No way, I’m not interested, I don’t have time, I just—no thank you.”

Mrs. Jung raised a skinny, pencil drawn eyebrow and stared at Baekhyun as she took a drink of her tea.

“Well…” Baekhyun cracked under her gaze, “It’s not like he would be interested, anyway.”

“Oh?”

“Oh come _on_ , I don’t even know if he, you know, swings my way or anything.” Baekhyun cleared his throat awkwardly and traced his pointer finger around the rim of his tea cup.

Mrs. Jung put her cup on the table and leaned forward on her elbows. “ _Spill_ , Baekhyun.”

“I _fucked_ up—”

“Language.”

“And he probably thinks I’m insane and he’ll never even want to _look_ at me again—I have absolutely no chance.” Baekhyun let out a frustrated breath. “I haven’t dated in—well, it’s been a while. How do I get his attention without looking like a total nutcase? I’m that weirdo that he had to unlock the door for, why would he want to interact with _me?”_ The nurse finished with a wail.

“Oh, you really do like him, don’t you?”

Baekhyun glared at Mrs. Jung. “If you tell the hallway I _will_ throw your saucers off the roof.”

“ _That_ is unnecessary.” Mrs. Jung gasped. “You leave my English china alone. Besides,” she took another sip of her tea, “I’m not one to gossip. But,” she leaned forward and stage whispered dramatically, “the walls have ears.”

“I am painfully aware.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “How _else_ would Junmyeon have known about my niece’s birthday?”

“What a coincidence”

“Mrs. Jung, _really.”_

===

Baekhyun wasn’t _avoiding_ Chanyeol by any means. It just so happened that he would be ducking into his apartment right as the redhead would be stepping out of his. So what if he jogged the couple extra steps from the elevator? He needed to get his exercise in _somehow_.

Naturally, as Baekhyun’s luck would have it, the second time he met Chanyeol he was just as exhausted, if not more so, than the first time.

He’d been called in on his day off—there had been a huge car pileup and thirty people were brought in (accidents on the freeway were _never_ pretty). This trauma call had been much bloodier than the last one, and Baekhyun was returning home in different scrubs than he’d gone to work in. The adrenaline had just started wearing off, and he was falling asleep in the elevator as the doors were closing when a hand stuck out and caught it before it could start heading up to the proper floor.

“Hey, sorry.” The redhead of Baekhyun’s nightmares dreams entered the small box, and Baekhyun was instantly more awake than he had been. “Baekhyun, right?”

“That’s me.” Baekhyun nodded awkwardly after pushing himself off the wall. “Chanyeol?”

“Yeah. I’m at the end of the hall.”

“I remember.” Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Moving in okay?” He drummed his fingers nervously on his scrub-clad legs, hoping Chanyeol didn’t notice how his pants were three sizes too big.

“Yeah, I’m almost done. A friend of mine is coming over tomorrow with the last couple boxes.” Chanyeol smiled brightly, and Baekhyun was reminded then that it was around one in the afternoon with how awake Chanyeol looked. Baekhyun had been called in around two in the morning. He’d lost all sense of time around seven thirty when one of the other nurses had him help set a broken hip.

“Oh. Good.” Baekhyun nodded once and then, deciding that this gorgeous hunk of man wasn’t worth the energy, leaned against the elevator wall again.

“Long day?” Chanyeol prodded gently as the elevator began moving up.

“Something like that.” Baekhyun yawned. “I got called in at two.”

Chanyeol let out a low whistle. “That _is_ quite a day. And what is it you do that got you called in at such an insane hour of the morning?”

“Nursing.” Baekhyun answered shortly. He wasn’t trying to be rude by any means, and Chanyeol must have seen how exhausted Baekhyun was for he simply nodded and leaned against the back wall of the elevator, watching the numbers change as the box continued to climb.

When the doors slid open on their floor Baekhyun had to physically push himself off the wall and made his way to his apartment, left hand skimming along the wall beside him. He didn’t miss the way Chanyeol walked a couple steps behind him, keeping an eye on him in case he collapsed.

Baekhyun simply ignored him and leaned his forehead against the wall beside his door, building up the energy he would need to find his keys and unlock his apartment.

His pause must have been too long for a few seconds later his backpack was being unzipped and Chanyeol stepped forward, unlocking Baekhyun’s door and putting a hand on his shoulder to walk him in.

“You always see me like this.” Baekhyun grumbled, dropping his backpack on the floor by the door. He toed out of his shoes and stumbled over to the couch, falling flat on his stomach and burying his face in a pillow.

“Need anything?” Chanyeol put Baekhyun’s key in back in the proper pocket and snuck around the side of the couch, standing in line with his hips and looking down at the exhausted nurse, already half asleep.

It took all the energy Baekhyun had to shake his head and then he was out like a light, ignoring the fact that there was a stranger in his apartment.

A very tall, very attractive, and very kind stranger who Baekhyun had most certainly ruined his chances with by now.

Oh, well. It’s not like Baekhyun ever stood a chance in the first place, anyway.

Chanyeol let out a breath and snagged the blanket off the back of one of the arm chairs and, careful not to wake his sleeping neighbor, draped it gently over him, folding it back when the fuzzy red blanket reached his shoulders. Baekhyun let out a cute little whine and took the blanket in his hands, fisting it and tucking it right up beneath his chin.

_Cute._

Chanyeol walked into the kitchen and opened a few drawers, searching for…sticky notes. There. He pulled out the yellow stack and a pen and jotted down a name and a series of numbers— _his_ series of numbers—and stuck it on the fridge. Just, you know, in case Baekhyun was too tired to make himself something to eat, or if he got lonely or if he needed help hooking up his tv like Mr. Jung…

Okay, maybe Chanyeol wanted to see him again. So what? Baekhyun was just his type, Phoenix or not. Short, cute, intelligent, a good job…and he was a _guy._ What’s not to love?

Chanyeol put the pad and pen back in the drawer and ducked quietly out of the apartment after glancing back at the sleeping nurse once more.

Baekhyun let out another sleepy sigh and tossed his head for a moment before settling back down.

_Cute._

===

“Byun, you’re wanted in the central bay.”

Baekhyun nodded and shut his work locker, pushing the sleeves of the long-sleeve he had on under his scrubs up to reveal his forearms as he stopped by the hand sanitizer station, pumping once and rubbing the gel all over his hands and wrists as he walked up to the main desk.

“I was summoned?”

“Hey, Byun.” Kyungsoo, the charge nurse, pulled a couple manila files and set them on Baekhyun’s clipboard. “I just need you to look over these for me if you don’t mind. I’ll sign them off, but I haven’t finished charting from last shift and I trust you enough to be thorough.”

“I got it.” Baekhyun stacked all the folders up and shot Kyungsoo a smile, which ended up not being returned as the charge nurse returned to his computer and immediately began mumbling to himself again. He made his way back to a free seat at the central desk and pulled up the charts on the computer, flipping open the first folder with a yawn.

Paperwork. Riveting.

It wasn’t until he was on the second chart and checking the patient information that the phone number reminded him of one he’d found scrawled on a yellow sticky note stuck to his fridge—a sticky note that was now folded neatly in his wallet. He’d folded and unfolded it countless times, wondering exactly what Chanyeol had meant when he left his number.

Perhaps he was thinking too far into it, that Chanyeol was just being neighborly. He was probably worried about him, with the amount of times he’d caught Baekhyun on the verge of collapsing. Nothing big.

Baekhyun seemed to manage to talk himself out of texting Chanyeol every time he thought about it.

“Baekhyun?”

“Hm?” Baekhyun shook out of his daydream and set his pen down, spinning around in his chair. “What’s up?”

“There’s a…couple guys here to see you.” Seulgi, one of the younger nurses, shifted her weight a bit and spun her engagement ring on her finger. “One of them checked in for a bum shoulder, apparently the other one knows you and wants you to treat him?”

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun glanced back at his computer—he was barely a third of the way through the second chart, and he had two more unopened still. “Kyungsoo has me running these—”

“I can take it from here.” Kyungsoo pushed up on his toes and reached over the desk, managing to close the file Baekhyun had been working on and gathering them all up in a neat pile. “Thanks, by the way.”

“Yeah, no…problem.” Baekhyun took the folder Seulgi had been holding in the crook of her elbow and slipped it onto his clipboard. “Sehun? I don’t know that name.”

“The other guy is the one who said he knew you. I didn’t catch his name, though.” Seulgi walked with Baekhyun towards the waiting room.

Baekhyun hummed absentmindedly as he glanced through Sehun’s paperwork. He’d been lifting a heavy box while helping a friend move when he felt a strange pain in his left shoulder and was unable to move it after that without the pain.

Straight forward enough.

But who the hell was Sehun?

Baekhyun nodded distractedly when Seulgi said she would head out and peeled off to go back to her usual station, still skimming over the file of the mystery man as he pushed through the swinging doors that separated the waiting room from the ER itself.

“Oh Sehun?” He called, finally lifting his eyes to see who’d stand up to walk over.

A tall man stood up, left arm crossed over his chest and crooked at the elbow while his right arm held it in place. He was wearing a hoodie—that would be a pain to get off—a pair of skinny jeans, and converse. His blond hair (with brown roots showing—someone needed a dye job—not the point) was brushed back naturally, parted in the middle.

He was attractive, yes, but still a stranger.

And then the redheaded man next to him stood up to follow him back towards the nurse, and Baekhyun understood.

“How do you know where I work?” Baekhyun backed up and held the door open for the two with his back, file held to his chest as Sehun and Chanyeol passed through the doorway.

“I see you in your scrubs a lot.” Chanyeol’s eyes dropped to look over Baekhyun’s chest, coming to a stop right over his heart. “I pick up on things.”

“You…” Baekhyun’s eyes dropped to see what Chanyeol was looking at. The hospital name was on his scrubs. _Emergency room_ was embroidered neatly underneath. “Oh.”

“Yes?”

“What?” Baekhyun looked up at the blond—at the _actual patient, Baekhyun, focus._ “Oh, no, I didn’t mean _Oh_ like your name Oh I meant oh as in…let’s just go.”

Baekhyun let the door swing shut behind him as he walked Chanyeol and Sehun down the hallway to the right, taking them to the area where they kept the _not_ critically injured.

The two walked quietly behind him, and Baekhyun knocked on the charge desk as he passed, saying “I’m claiming the fourth bay. Oh Sehun. Left shoulder.”

“Okay.” Taeyeon nodded and pulled his file up, glancing at the two men behind him and taking in their respective levels of attractiveness in the span of a couple seconds. _They’re hot,_ she mouthed.

 _Shut up_ is all Baekhyun shot back because, while she wasn’t wrong, he had a _job_ to do. He couldn’t afford to focus on his incredibly tall, incredibly attractive redheaded neighbor when his friend had a dislocated shoulder.

Baekhyun reached over the desk and (childishly) flicked Taeyeon’s forehead before heading off to the fourth room, closing the curtain behind the two giants and instructing Sehun to sit on the bed while Chanyeol took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Okay, Sehun.” Baekhyun washed his hands and then turned to the blond as he dried them with a paper towel. “Walk me through what happened here.”

“You know how Chanyeol’s been moving into his new place, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” Chanyeol snorted, and Baekhyun shot him a sharp look as he fished two gloves out of the box on the wall. “Keep going.”

“Well, we got the last of the boxes from my apartment into the car, and once we got there and went to pull the first few out was when I just got this really sharp pain.” Baekhyun hummed for him to continue, stepping over to the bed. “And it’s like—it’s fine when it’s here but I can’t move it too much, you know?”

“Sure.” Baekhyun nodded and reached out. “May I?”

Sehun nodded and released his arm, grimacing as it fell into his lap and he leaned back on his right hand. “How long has it been hurting?”

“I’d say— _ow_ —a couple of hours?”

“We got to my place around one.” Chanyeol spoke up then, watching Baekhyun work with Sehun quietly. “It’s three-thirty now.”

“Okay. Listen,” Baekhyun gently laid Sehun’s arm back down, positioning his hand in his lap like it was. “We really need to get this sweatshirt off. If you don’t care about it I can cut it or—no, don’t freak out, _or_ Chanyeol can come help and we can get you out of it.”

Sehun looked right at Chanyeol. “Get your ass over here and help him.”

 _“Rude.”_ Chanyeol rolled his eyes but heaved himself out of the chair and Baekhyun hid his laugh behind a cough.

“Let’s get it off his good arm first. You go to that side.” It took some uncomfortable maneuvering and muffled grunts of pain before the two managed to pull his sweatshirt off, and then his t-shirt.

Baekhyun did _not_ look at his abs. He didn’t. Sehun was his patient…

He really needed to get laid. Soon.

But right now he needed to _focus._

Focus he did, and an hour later he was getting the doctor to sign off on a pain medication for Sehun after getting him x-rayed, diagnosed, and all wrapped up.

“Take it easy for the next month, yeah?” Baekhyun pushed the curtain aside and led Sehun—arm now in a sling—and Chanyeol back to the waiting room to get them checked out.

“Thank you.” Sehun said genuinely. “You’re a real-life saver. Chanyeol’s right,” he ignored Chanyeol’s distinct grunt and his hand moving back and forth for a second across his throat, “you’re a really good nurse.”

“And how would Chanyeol know that?” Baekhyun pushed the door open and watched Chanyeol cross the threshold with an amused look on his face. The redhead wouldn’t meet his eyes. “He’s never seen me work.”

Chanyeol simply cleared his throat and looked away and Sehun and Baekhyun both laughed.

“You’re all set.” Baekhyun handed Sehun’s file over the desk to the receptionist and smiled at the blond. “I guess you can just let Chanyeol know if you have any questions and he can pass them along. And if the pain gets as bad as it was then just come back in, okay?”

“Thanks, Baek.”

“Baek?” Baekhyun raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh, sorry. Yeah, uh—that’s what Chanyeol calls you, so I just sort of automatically—”

“Sehun!” Chanyeol let out an unnecessarily bright laugh and clamped a hand down on Sehun’s good shoulder. “We don’t need to mention that part. Baek—Baek- _hyun_ doesn’t care, hm?”

“Okay,” Baekhyun nodded and turned to head back into the emergency room. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

Baekhyun had one hand on the door when his name was called and he turned around to face Chanyeol, who had followed him and was just a few steps away now while Sehun was alone at the desk.

“Do you need something?”

“Your hands.”

“My…hands?” Baekhyun pulled the one that had been in his pants pocket out and looked at it. “What about them?”

“You have nice hands. They’re steady,” Chanyeol reached out and took it—where did the unconfident _Sehun you said too much_ guy go? “Good for work like this. Have you played piano?”

“When I was a kid.” Baekhyun dragged his eyes away from their hands and met Chanyeol’s eyes, his voice quiet. “My mom threw a fit when I quit.”

“I can imagine. You have the fingers for it.” Chanyeol squeezed his hand with a smile and then dropped it. “You have good fingers.” He winked and—was that supposed to be some sort of sexual innuendo? “Have a good rest of your shift. Watch those pretty hands of yours.” And then he was gone in a flurry of red and blond, shepherding Sehun out the door and leaving Baekhyun, stunned into silence—a first for him, really—in the waiting room.

===

“Mrs. Jung?”

Mrs. Jung hummed, pulling her scones out of the oven with a pleased smile on her face. “Yes, dear?”

Baekhyun stirred the spoon in his mug. “How do you know if someone’s flirting with you?”

Mrs. Jung froze for a second, which didn’t go unnoticed by Baekhyun, before bustling around the kitchen again for something to put the scones on. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re not _sly_ , Mrs. Jung.” Baekhyun pointed his spoon at the elder lady’s back. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m not thinking anything. Chocolate or blueberry?”

“Chocolate.” _Of course._ “Do you even remember being flirted with?”

“I’ll hit you.” Mrs. Jung shoved a chocolate scone in his mouth and then set the rest of the platter on the table before sitting down in her seat across from him. “You _never_ question a woman’s age, Baekhyun.”

“I didn’t _question_ it— _ow.”_ Baekhyun glared at his tea partner who innocently sipped her drink, pretending she hadn’t just kicked him under the table. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“What did he say to you?” Mrs. Jung settled in her seat and leaned forward, propping her forearms (“never your elbows, dear, that’s bad manners”) against the edge of the table.

“He said…” Baekhyun looked down at his hands. One was wrapped around his mug and the other one was tapping against the table. “He said I have nice hands.”

Mrs. Jung raised a perfectly drawn on eyebrow. “Oh, did he?”

“He only said that because I’d just been patching a friend of his up at the hospital.” Baekhyun was quick to defend. “I guess he’d been…watching me?”

“And he just happened to pick the hospital _you_ work at to take his friend and then you were the one assigned to take them back?”

Baekhyun lifted up his mug, muttering “he asked for me” into the porcelain before taking a drink.

Mrs. Jung absolutely _shrieked._

“I _knew_ it!” She leaned forward and pointed at Baekhyun with an intensity that had him leaning back in response. “I knew he must have asked for you—this is the kind of thing that doesn’t happen by chance.”

“How did he even know where I work?” Baekhyun asked.

Mrs. Jung looked at Baekhyun strangely, as though he’d suddenly grown a finger out of his nose. “Your hospital name is on your scrubs, dear.”

“No I—I know. I mean I asked him already, and he said the same thing but he just…” Baekhyun’s voice droned off and he bit his bottom lip, eyes on his cup. “He _pays attention_ to me.”

“And do you _like_ that attention?”

Baekhyun’s mouth opened and shut for a moment. He settled on taking a drink instead of responding and Mrs. Jung clapped her hands enthusiastically.

“Look at you, you’re blushing!”

“I am _not.”_

“You _are.”_ Mrs. Jung insisted. “He’s paid enough attention to you in the three or so times he’s seen you to know exactly what hospital you work at and when they showed up he decided to try his luck and see if you were there.” Mrs. Jung fixed him with a small smile. “He was _flirting.”_

“I don’t…know.” Baekhyun’s eyes fell to his cup and he traced around the rim with his index finger. “Perhaps he just wanted someone he knew to treat his friend, you know?”

“He barely knows you, Baekhyun. And if I were him, I wouldn’t have wanted someone who was on the brink of passing out both times I’d met them to be taking care of my friend’s broken shoulder.”

“Dislocated.” Mrs. Jung raised her eyebrow and Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Not that it _matters.”_

She stared at him for a moment and Baekhyun averted his eyes, taking another drink.

“So when are you going to ask him out?”

Baekhyun choked, covering his mouth with his hand as he sputtered. “When am I _what?”_

“It’s _obvious_ that he’s interested in you, and it sounds like he doesn’t want to push.”

“How do you…” Baekhyun swallowed, over his coughing fit as he replaced his mug on the table. “How do you _know_ that?”

Mrs. Jung stared at him. “Are you _not_ a young male yourself? Have you never been flirted with? Never had someone interested in you?”

“Not like _this.”_ Baekhyun defended. “Chanyeol’s so—so _subtle._ Most of the guys I’ve been with have picked me up at the club or something. We got out for a while, fu— _sleep_ together a few times, and then they’re usually on their way.”

Mrs. Jung let out a disappointed sigh and shook her head. “Your love life is a _mess_ , darling.”

“I _know_ that.” Baekhyun sat back in his chair and ran his hands down his face. “Why is this so _complicated?”_

“Because you actually _like_ him.”

Baekhyun sighed and then sat up. “Let’s say I do.”

“You _do.”_

 _“If_ I were to have what could potentially be serious feelings for this guy, what do I do?” Baekhyun ignored Mrs. Jung, propping his forearms on the table. “I don’t want to jump right into anything, that’s how things tend to get…screwy. Like, you know, if I wanted to do this _right.”_

Mrs. Jung smiled at him brightly and shifted her weight side to side in her seat. “Oh, this is _exciting.”_

Baekhyun eyed her warily. “Perhaps I should ask Joohyun.” He began getting up but Mrs. Jung snapped her fingers and pointed at his chair again.

“You sit _down_ , Mr. Byun. We’re having a conversation.”

“I’d rather have this conversation with Joohyun.”

 _“Down,_ Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun plopped back down in his seat. “Fine, okay. So, what do I do?”

“Find reasons to talk to him.” Mrs. Jung began. “Simple reasons. Check in on his friend. Ask if he’s moved in alright. Ask him to come fix your tv.”

“Not all of us are as technically inadequate as you are.”

“You _respect_ your elders.” Mrs. Jung snapped playfully and Baekhyun sniggered. “Anyway,” she cleared her throat and sat up. “See if you enjoy talking to him. If you do, then the next step should be natural.”

“The next step…” Baekhyun cocked his head to the side.

“Oh dear god, do I have to do everything for this child.” Mrs. Jung shook her head. “You _ask him out.”_

Baekhyun was silent for a moment. “Oh.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Jung nodded, a thoughtful look on her face. “If you enjoy hanging out with Chanyeol then the next step would be to ask him out.”

Baekhyun chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

“Then he’ll say _no,_ Baekhyun. There’s no way to really overthink this.”

“But we’re _neighbors.”_ Baekhyun defended, hands splaying on the table. “Wouldn’t that make things awkward? It’s not like we’ll be able to just stop seeing each other at _all_ if he says no.”

“You’re an _adult_ , Baekhyun. You be civil and move on.” Mrs. Jung was starting to get exasperated. “My goodness, I hope I wasn’t this complicated as a child.”

“I’m sure you were worse.”

 _“Respect.”_ Mrs. Jung reached across the table and smacked Baekhyun upside the head softly while he laughed. “Do you want to ask him out or not?”

Baekhyun sighed softly. “Yeah, I do.” His eyes fell to his cup again.

“Do you want to get laid?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“Then you _ask him out.”_

===

Baekhyun waited for an opportunity to start some sort of conversation with Chanyeol, as per Mrs. Jung’s instruction, but somehow it seemed as though the male had disappeared. It had been nearly a week and he hadn’t yet seen him.

Baekhyun’s life went on. In and out of the hospital for work three times a week and, lucky for him, full sleep as he hadn’t gotten any calls to come in during the night. He fell back into his routine, Chanyeol and possible dates being pushed to the back of his mind as he went about his days—grocery shopping Tuesday, work Wednesday, lounging Thursday, work, work, errands, relaxing, and work.

He fell back into his routine so much that when he ran into Chanyeol at the elevator, the tall redhead’s presence took him by surprise.

“You’re alive.”

Chanyeol started and turned towards him, face breaking into a small smile. “Baekhyun! Hi, how are you?”

“I’m good.” They headed into the elevator as the doors opened. “Working a lot.”

“I haven’t run into you in the hallway, so it must not be _that_ much.”

 _“Hey.”_ Baekhyun let out a chuckle. “That was just twice.”

“And it _happened_ to be the two times you ran into me?”

“Technically _you_ ran into _me.”_ Baekhyun adjusted his work bag over his shoulder and leaned against the wall, opening up his chest in Chanyeol’s direction. “I wasn’t moving. You were.”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes with an amused breath. “Fine then, Mr. Technicality. We ran into each other.”

 _“You_ ran into me.”

“What _ever.”_ Chanyeol laughed and kicked at Baekhyun’s leg.

Baekhyun bit his bottom lip to hide his smile. “How’s Sehun doing?”

“A lot better.” Chanyeol nodded and settled down a bit, leaning against the other wall and mimicking Baekhyun’s position. “A _lot_ better. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Baekhyun cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes. “I haven’t, uh—seen you in a while.”

“Haven’t been out of my apartment in a week.” Chanyeol admitted with a small laugh. “I’ve been unpacking. I’m also now out of food.”

“That’s unfortunate.” The elevator doors opened and the two wandered out slowly. The mail room was on the path to the front door and so they headed in the same direction.

Baekhyun cast a glance at Chanyeol.

_Just do it._

“You should come over for dinner one night, then.” He averted his gaze, clearing his throat. “You know, get out of your apartment. And I, unlike you, _have_ food.”

“Oh, do you now?” They reached the mail room and Chanyeol lingered outside, eyes bright and playful as he leaned against the wall. “This sounds like coercion.”

“It’s simply a suggestion. I feel like I should offer my professional opinion here—you _do_ , in fact, need to eat on the daily basis.”

“Can’t you go three days without food?” Chanyeol shot back.

“Why would you have to when I have a fully stocked pantry just a few doors down from you?”

“That’s a walk.” Chanyeol’s eyes curved as he smiled, clearly enjoying himself.

“You seem like a guy who can handle a little walk.” Baekhyun gathered up pretty much all the confidence he had and raised his hand, patting Chanyeol’s _rock hard_ chest. “What do you say?”

Chanyeol caught Baekhyun’s hand before he could pull it away and held it over his heart for a moment, eyes focusing on him as his smile dropped into a small grin. Baekhyun felt his heart pounding and he wondered if Chanyeol could hear it too. The penguins in Antarctica could probably hear it at the rate it was beating and Chanyeol refused to let go of his hand—

“I’d _love_ to” is what he ended up saying with so much genuineness that it nearly caught Baekhyun off guard. “Thank you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun could feel Chanyeol’s heartbeat under his hand and his own subconsciously slowed down to match it, calming him.

“Great.” He mirrored Chanyeol’s smile. “Are you free tomorrow?”

“I’m not sure.” Chanyeol hummed and pretended to think for a moment. “I think the boxes holding the rest of my office supplies are going to try and keep me.”

“You should talk to them about that.” Baekhyun pulled his hand back and took a step back. “Text me?”

 _“You_ never texted _me.”_ Chanyeol pointed at him accusingly. “I don’t _have_ your number.” He then pushed off the wall and wandered into the little open mailroom, locating his own box and pulling out a stack of envelopes.

Baekhyun walked over and plucked one of the envelopes from his hand and flipped it over to the back. He pulled one of the pens out of his shirt pockets and jotted his number down on it. “Well, now you do.” He replaced the envelope in Chanyeol’s hand and tucked his pen back into his pocket. “We’ll talk later?”

Baekhyun took a couple steps back, eyes on Chanyeol as he watched him with a smile.

“I’ll text you.”

Baekhyun smiled and then waved at Chanyeol, turning around and pushing out the front door of their complex.

===

His response came halfway through his shift, around three in the afternoon.

_Good news! My gloriously generous boxes are letting me go for the afternoon tomorrow. Need me to bring anything?_

Baekhyun was on his lunch break so he wiped his hands off and picked up his phone, swallowing his mouthful.

_You sure you’ll be able to /walk/ that far?_

Baekhyun could vividly see Chanyeol’s smile in his head from that morning and he pictured it then, imagining it on Chanyeol’s face as he read over Baekhyun’s teasing message.

_I can walk as far as I need to for a bottle of wine. Red?_

“Byun, you’re needed.” Minseok, one of the other nurses on his shift for the day, poked his head into the breakroom. “Are you done?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun dropped his lunch trash in the appropriate bin and washed his hands, pecking out a reply as he wandered out of the breakroom.

_You have good taste in wines. I’ll be expecting a red tomorrow around six._

Baekhyun’s phone buzzed again as he reached the desk.

_Looking forward to it. The wine and I will see you then._

===

“Prompt.” Baekhyun opened the door at precisely 6:01 pm to see Chanyeol leaning in the doorframe, cloth grocery bag looped around his wrist and a bottle of red wine in his hand.

He shrugged. “I gotta make a good first impression, right?”

Baekhyun took a step back, opening up the doorway for Chanyeol to come in. “You have a brilliant first impression—anyone who keeps me from sleeping on the floor in the hallway _twice_ is automatically ranked higher than most other people in this building.”

“I’m honored, then.” Chanyeol slipped his shoes off and Baekhyun took the wine and the bag from him. Hands now free, Chanyeol slipped out of his leather jacket, leaving him in a fitted black long-sleeve and dark jeans. The dark colors made his bright hair seem to pop and Baekhyun swallowed, averting his eyes.

“Cat got your tongue?” Chanyeol stole the bag back with a teasing smile.

“Nope.” Baekhyun shook out of his stupor, figuring his blue sweater and black jeans were appropriate for what Chanyeol had worn, and carried the bottle into the kitchen.

They’d already agreed on Italian food—Baekhyun had stuff for pasta and bread, and when Chanyeol picked up the wine he made sure to grab some stuff for salad.

Baekhyun popped open the bottle and fetched two glasses from the cabinet as Chanyeol began unloading his bag, naming everything as he did.

“…tomatoes, lettuce, olives,” he glanced up at Baekhyun before pulling the final item out of the bag. “Chocolate cheesecake.”

Baekhyun’s head whipped over and he replaced the bottle of wine on the counter as Chanyeol pulled one of the little serves-two cakes out of his bag, all chocolatey and covered in strawberries.

Baekhyun…Baekhyun needed to date this man. Immediately. Perhaps sleep with him later but for now he’d never been so inclined at the notion of “love at first sight” as he was in this moment.

“That looks _heavenly.”_

“Doesn’t it?” Chanyeol folded the bag and walked back over to where he’d hung up his jacket on the coat rack, looping the handle of it over the same hook. “I couldn’t resist.”

“I’m glad.” Baekhyun grabbed the container and set it in the fridge. By the time Chanyeol returned to the kitchen Baekhyun had finished with the wine and he offered a glass to Chanyeol who took it with a smile. They stood on opposite sides of the bar and clinked their glasses together before drinking, maintaining eye contact.

Chanyeol…damn, he was _hot_. Perhaps sleeping with him would move its way up Baekhyun’s mental list because that—he needed to see _that_ body in action.

“Well,” Chanyeol licked his lips— _fuck, does he even realize how hot he is?—_ and put his glass on the counter. “I do believe I was promised dinner?” He swirled his glass around in little circles, aerating the wine.

8Baekhyun laughed. “You were. I won’t need too long.” He put his glass down and then pushed back, first washing his hands and then walking towards the pantry so he could start pulling out what he would need to make dinner.

He heard the sink behind him and turned around, passing Chanyeol who was washing his own hands as he headed to the stove to pull out a pot. “Helping?”

“If you don’t mind.” Chanyeol grabbed the kitchen towel off the counter beside the sink and dried his hands. “I’d hate to just stand around here while you’re putting something together and feel like I’m nothing more than a bother.”

Baekhyun snorted, flicking on the sink to fill the pot with water for the noodles. “I’d love the help but you’ve been up on your feet a lot. You could take this opportunity to relax a bit?”

“I could.” Chanyeol dropped the towel back on the counter with another one of his dazzling smiles. Baekhyun almost over-filled the pot, distracted. “But I won’t. Where do you want me, chef?”

_My bedroom._

“You can get started on the salad stuff you brought.” Baekhyun salted the water and then put the lid on the pot for it to boil.

“You got it.” Chanyeol passed behind Baekhyun and took a wild guess at the cabinet, opening it and letting out a victorious laugh when he found the large salad bowls.

“Lucky guess?”

“You’re smart.” Chanyeol flicked Baekhyun’s shoulder as he returned to where all his ingredients were. “Mine are second from the fridge, too.”

“Thank you.” Baekhyun picked up the box of pasta and began measuring out how much he’d need. “My mom yells at me—says they should be over by the dishwasher but I don’t get it.”

“By the dishwasher? Hell no.” Chanyeol shook his head with a soft snort. “Glasses by the fridge, plates and bowls one over.”

 _“Exactly.”_ Baekhyun regarded Chanyeol over his shoulder for a moment. Chanyeol’s back was to him, muscles contracting under his fitted shirt and the sleeves were rolled up a bit, revealing thick, veiny forearms and fucking _hell_ Park Chanyeol from next door really couldn’t be more perfect, could he? His hand covered almost the whole opening of the bowl as he washed the vegetables and Baekhyun swallowed, wondering what that giant hand and long fingers could do…

“I like you. I’m gonna keep you around.”

Chanyeol simply laughed and picked up the chopping knife, and then the only sounds in the kitchen were soft, rhythmic chopping and water boiling. The silence wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable.

They worked in tandem throughout the process of dinner making, smiling and laughing and joking, and after Baekhyun synced his phone with the Bluetooth speaker he had in the corner, dancing and singing.

Honestly, it felt like Baekhyun had known Chanyeol for _years_.

There was never a dull moment all through their meal and then even after, through the cutting of the little cake. Baekhyun, wondering if Chanyeol wanted to extend the night the same way he did, offered to pour Chanyeol another glass of wine.

Chanyeol, to his immense delight, didn’t turn him down, and they sat down on the couch, bodies turned towards each other, and kept talking.

They ended up finishing the bottle at some point, and it wasn’t until Baekhyun was setting his empty wine glass aside that he caught sight of the clock on the far wall.

“Shit, it’s late.” Baekhyun laughed softly. “I didn’t even realize.”

“Damn.” Chanyeol glanced at the clock on the table beside the couch. “You’re so entertaining I completely lost track of time. I don’t want to overstay my welcome or anything.”

“You’re not, I promise—I can take that.” Baekhyun took Chanyeol’s empty wine glass before he could stand up and took both them and the wine bottle tucked under his arm back to the kitchen. “You’re my guest, I’ll clean up.”

“Haven’t we already established that I’m not your typical guest?” Chanyeol stacked the plates together and the forks on top and carried them into the kitchen. Baekhyun took them both to set them with the wine glasses in the sink and the two stood on opposite sides of the island, eyes meeting.

And then, for the first time that night, they went quiet in that soft, awkward sort of way.

“Thank you for dinner.” Chanyeol broke it with a soft smile. “I really did have a nice time tonight.”

“I’m glad.” Baekhyun ruffled his hair. “We should do this again sometime.” He glanced up at Chanyeol to gauge his reaction and Chanyeol simply smiled wider.

“We should.”

They fell into another sort of silence, Chanyeol shifting his weight back and forth. He should really leave. They’ve had dinner. They’ve cleaned up, and laughed, and sang stupid songs doing the dishes. He should really just leave.

Baekhyun licked his bottom lip and then bit it—a nervous habit he’d always had. He shifted his weight and then Chanyeol cleared his throat.

“I should go.”

“I’m sure you’re tired.” Baekhyun agreed. Neither of them moved.

Chanyeol swallowed and then shrugged. “I mean—I’m somewhat of a night owl.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes and rounded the counter, gathering his courage and grabbing Chanyeol’s wrist. “The nurse in me is going to kick you out so you can go get some sleep, okay?”

“Yes sir.” Chanyeol laughed, trailing behind Baekhyun. The walk from the kitchen to the front door was short but Chanyeol still managed to shake his wrist from Baekhyun’s grip, lacing their fingers together instead.

Baekhyun didn’t look at him but squeezed his hand in acknowledgement, biting his lip.

_Don’t scream. Don’t lose it. Wait until he’s gone._

“So this is goodnight then.” Chanyeol stood in front of Baekhyun, his back to the door, hands still held and dangling between them.

“It would appear so.” Chanyeol cocked his head to the side, eyes soft and questioning. “Can I…”

“Can you…” Baekhyun absentmindedly bit his lip again and Chanyeol smiled softly. He used his grip on his hand to draw him closer. Baekhyun wondered if Chanyeol could hear his heart pounding.

Chanyeol couldn’t help it when his free hand came up to rest on Baekhyun’s cheek, thumbing over the bone softly. His eyes scanned Baekhyun’s whole face, settling on his lips. He swallowed and then met his eyes again. “Can I kiss you, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun hesitated for a split second, mind going into overdrive before he nodded. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Chanyeol smiled and let out a soft breath before his hand on Baekhyun’s cheek angled his head up and Baekhyun didn’t even have a moment to process before Chanyeol was kissing him.

Baekhyun had never believed in love at first sight. He’d never believed in feeling sparks when kissing someone, or in the idea of soulmates. And yet here was Park Chanyeol, kissing him and breaking down every stereotype Baekhyun always thought was bullshit.

Because he was feeling sparks from his fingers to his toes, and fireworks were going off behind his eyes.

Chanyeol pulled back about an inch but his hand stayed on Baekhyun’s cheek as they both let out soft breaths. Baekhyun tilted his chin and bumped his nose against Chanyeol’s.

“My turn for a question.” He opened his eyes and met Chanyeol’s, gorgeous and shining and right in front of him. “Can you do that again?”

Chanyeol wasted no time in kissing Baekhyun again, evidently wanting it just as badly as he did. Baekhyun let out a soft sound as Chanyeol let go of his hand and wrapped his arm around his waist. He let himself get so lost in the feeling of Chanyeol’s lips and his hand that he let the man turn him around and it didn’t even register until his back hit the door.

Fuck.

He was making out with his neighbor against his _front door._

_Fuck._

Chanyeol kept him from thinking too much, hands soft as they both fell to his hips and then, after Baekhyun made a sound of approval, just under his shirt. They didn’t go anywhere else—Chanyeol didn’t try to go for the button on Baekhyun’s jeans (not that he would’ve said no), didn’t go up further to try and take his shirt off. His fingers held Baekhyun comfortably—in a way that Baekhyun never wanted to end.

Neither of them opened their mouths too much, either. Neither of their tongues tried to press into the other’s mouth. They were just…kissing.

Baekhyun hadn’t been kissed like this in years.

“God I feel like a kid again.” Baekhyun laughed softly, head leaning to the side as Chanyeol kissed down his neck. “This is the softest I’ve kissed someone in a really long time.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol pressed one last, lingering kiss to the base of Baekhyun’s neck and then came back up to his lips. “I can go harder if you want.”

Baekhyun’s head fell back against the door and he smiled, shaking his head. “No—no, I like it. It’s nice. Relaxing.” His arms looped around Chanyeol’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss. “You don’t have to stop.”

Baekhyun’s hand fell to Chanyeol’s chest and he splayed it flat as they parted a few minutes later, lips barely brushing each other as they breathed in and out.

Another kiss. Another breath—in and out. Over and over, right there against Baekhyun’s front door.

“We can also take this somewhere more comfortable, if you’d like.” He swallowed and whispered. “The couch? My room, maybe?”

Chanyeol leaned his forehead against Baekhyun’s as he chuckled. “No. Not tonight.” He kissed Baekhyun again. “I want to, believe me, you’re…” Chanyeol’s lips moved to Baekhyun’s ear and he nipped at it once before muttering _“very_ hard to resist.”

Baekhyun’s hand that was on his chest lowered and wrapped around Chanyeol’s waist, pulling him close. They were both at least somewhat turned on, even if not a lot—but then again, so far the night was so soft, so _special_.

Part of Baekhyun didn’t want to ruin it—didn’t want to take what they’d started building and throw it away by getting the quick fuck out of the way within a single night.

“But not tonight.” Chanyeol repeated as he straightened up. Baekhyun blinked once, twice, and then pushed up so he was no longer leaning against the door. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“You sure?” Baekhyun smiled softly up at Chanyeol. “There’s still more cheesecake left—and you really can’t expect me to finish that on my own.”

“See, what I’m doing here,” Chanyeol slipped both of his shoes on with a soft grunt and then grabbed his jacket off the hook, “is giving you an excuse to invite me over again. If you want it, that is. If not, then feel free to not bring up the cake and finish all that chocolatey goodness to treat yourself after work.”

“You kissed me like _that_ and now you’re expecting me to not take you up on that?” Baekhyun took Chanyeol jacket and held it as Chanyeol slipped his arms into the right spots, pulling it up over his shoulders and then smoothing the fabric down as Chanyeol turned around. “Like I said—I’ll never be able to finish that on my own.”

“In that case, I would be honored to help you out with that, should you so desire.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes and Chanyeol smiled, caught his chin, and kissed him softly one more time.

Baekhyun practically _melted_.

“I’ll see myself out.”

“Have a good night, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun hung off the side of the door as Chanyeol wandered out into the hallway.

Chanyeol turned around with another one of those suave smiles, biting his bottom lip as he looked over what he could see of Baekhyun.

He winked. “Sleep well, beautiful,” and then he turned on his heel and headed down the hall to his apartment, hands in his pockets and a sort of skip in his step.


	3. Something New

Baekhyun’s never had a relationship quite like the one he was now experiencing with a certain Park Chanyeol from down the hall. With him, there was no pressure, no expectations, nothing was forced.

There wasn’t that unspoken rule that he _had_ to reply to Chanyeol as soon as he got a text—he didn’t have to worry about forgetting, like he was prone to do, or about going hours during work without sending a response first.

Chanyeol was also very understanding in terms of his job—how he _had_ to keep his phone on him because he was always on call, how his schedule could change at the very last second and he wouldn’t have a choice but to follow it—everything to which Chanyeol said “that’s okay. Whatever you have to do that’s okay. I’ll be here when you have time.”

And damn, if Baekhyun didn’t _make_ time for Chanyeol.

He was tired—he had a very demanding job, and now trying to build up a full-time relationship on _top_ of that full-time job was _exhausting_. There just weren’t enough hours of the day.

Park Chanyeol from down the hall proved just how _perfect_ he really was when he would be more than happy to invite Baekhyun over, or go over to his place, sit down, and watch something on the TV while Baekhyun took a nap. He also recommended small things for them to do together that weren’t so taxing—taking walks around town in the evening, holding hands and eating ice cream, wandering around the local aquarium after a relaxing dinner, Chanyeol even invited Baekhyun over when his own apartment was finally all put together to repay him for that dinner.

That night ended up about the same as it had the first time, only that time they’d migrated from the door to Chanyeol’s couch.

For the first time in Baekhyun’s life, he didn’t feel like anything was missing. He wasn’t _lonely_. Chanyeol was here, filling in that little hole he’d had since he graduated, seeing his friends’ pictures with their fiancés, kids, pets, _families_ as he sat alone in his apartment, migrating back and forth from the hospital.

Now Baekhyun was happy. Not just not _un_ -happy, but really, truly happy.

===

Chanyeol was also showing Baekhyun that his job didn’t have to be the _only_ spontaneous aspect of his life.

“’Yeol, babe, please—it’s four in the fucking morning.” Baekhyun’s door slammed, echoing in the otherwise silent hallway. He pulled his hands inside the sleeves of his hoodie, letting them hang freely underneath the denim sleeves of his warmer jacket that he’d pulled on for an extra layer. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Chanyeol’s layered a windbreaker over his own sweatshirt, and he grabbed Baekhyun’s wrist to lead him towards the elevator. “Based on a recent conversation, though, I think you’ll like it.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun paused, thinking. They’ve had a lot of conversations recently, learning things about each other. Their families, where they’re from, their jobs, their hopes and dreams—Baekhyun doesn’t think he’s ever been so comfortable and open with a person so soon after meeting them. “That doesn’t help me much.”

“I know.” Chanyeol’s tongue poked between his teeth as he smiled and that was quickly becoming one of Baekhyun’s favorite things in the world. His eyes fell to Baekhyun’s wrist and his brows furrowed slightly in concentration—he was trying to dig one of Baekhyun’s hands out of his hoodie. He hummed in contentment when he finally got it and held his hand tightly in his own warm one. “Doesn’t that make this more fun? You know the answer, you just can’t narrow it down right now.”

Baekhyun groaned as Chanyeol tugged him out of the elevator on the first floor and towards the doors that led to the parking garage. “That’s not fair.”

“There’s nothing unfair about it.” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun’s hand and then released it when they reached his car. “Hop in, Baek, or we’ll be late.”

“Late to _what?”_ Baekhyun shut the door and shivered, blowing warm air on his hands as Chanyeol started the car and turned the heater on. “What on _earth_ are we potentially going to be late to at four in the goddamn morning?”

“You’ll see when we get there. You like car rides?”

“Can I sleep?”

Chanyeol smiled as he started backing out of the space. “You sure can.”

Baekhyun hummed as he settled into his seat, curling against the door. “In that case, I love nothing more.”

Chanyeol hummed along to the soft music as he drove and Baekhyun fell asleep quickly, meaning he was unsure just how much time had passed when Chanyeol shook him awake later.

“You up?”

“I am now.” Baekhyun ran a hand through his hair, taming it out of habit as he sat up and yawned. “Where are we?”

Chanyeol didn’t say anything and he let Baekhyun look around—first at the empty parking lot and then beyond, at the white sand and ocean and up to where the dark blue night sky was just beginning to turn pink at the horizon.

“You drove us to the beach?”

“Killing two birds with one stone, here.” Chanyeol smiled shyly. “You said you hadn’t been in a while, and that you’d never seen the sun rise anywhere outside of the city. So I figured…” he droned off, confidence gone at Baekhyun’s silence. “Is this okay?”

“Is this…” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol as his lips turned up in a soft smile. “This is fucking _amazing_ , Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun reached across the console and wrapped his hand around the back of Chanyeol’s neck, adding just enough pressure for Chanyeol to bend down and meet him halfway for a morning kiss. He turned his body into it and his other hand came up to cup Chanyeol’s cheek while Chanyeol’s fell onto his thigh.

He smiled as he pulled away. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Chanyeol kissed his nose and squeezed his thigh. “Wanna go play in the water?”

“You keep making me feel like a kid.” Baekhyun didn’t hesitate to toe out of his sneakers and strip his socks off.

“We adult too much.” Chanyeol tossed his shoes into the backseat. “It’s nice to have a break once in a while, don’t you think?”

Baekhyun only answered with slamming the door. “I’ll race you!”

“You have a head start!” Chanyeol stumbled out of the car, pocketing the keys while following Baekhyun into the sand.

Baekhyun simply laughed, working his way up a sand dune. “Come on, Amazon.” Baekhyun had once joked that Chanyeol’s legs were longer than the trees in the amazon, and the name sort of stuck. Just when he wanted to _really_ get under Chanyeol’s skin. “Use those legs and catch me if you can.”

Chanyeol did, and just a few seconds later Baekhyun was pulled back by two large hands on his waist, back hitting a firm chest as he shrieked. He pulled against Chanyeol’s hands, laughing, and Chanyeol dug his fingers into Baekhyun’s sides to keep him weak and in his arms.

“I wanna go play in the _water.”_ Baekhyun whined between laughs. “Let me go!”

“It’ll cost you.”

“What will it cost me?” Baekhyun turned his head, nose brushing Chanyeol’s with just how close they were.

“A kiss.” Chanyeol raised his chin for just a second. “A _real_ one.”

“What you got in the car wasn’t a real one?”

Chanyeol smiled softly and shook his head. “You know what I like, Byun. Come on.”

Baekhyun licked his bottom lip and then turned in Chanyeol’s hold, looping his arms around his neck. “If I _have_ to.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to.”

Baekhyun laughed—he really couldn’t—and then he kissed Chanyeol. He tightened his arms, pushed up on his toes, and kept kissing him.

He nipped at Chanyeol’s bottom lip, catching it and pulling back teasingly, slowly releasing Chanyeol’s lip as he did. “Did you like that one?”

Chanyeol’s eyes stayed closed but he smiled, chasing Baekhyun for another kiss. “I did.” A soft, soft peck that made Baekhyun’s heart flutter. “Almost as much as I like you.”

Baekhyun scrunched his nose adorably and Chanyeol poked it. “What were you saying about playing in the water?”

Baekhyun’s face instantly brightened and he stumbled back out of Chanyeol’s hold, taking his boyfriend’s hand and dragging him towards the rolling waves. He paused just long enough to roll the bottoms of his joggers up mid-shin and then he ran into the ocean, laughing.

It was _freezing_ , but wonderful all the same.

Chanyeol joined him just seconds later and Baekhyun immediately turned around and kicked water up at him, laughing again at Chanyeol’s scandalized face.

“You’re _paying_ for that.”

“Oh, now—wait a second.” Baekhyun chuckled nervously and held his hands up in front of him, backing up slowly before just turning and running.

He and Chanyeol chased each other around the beach as the sky brightened, and they ended up sitting on the hood of his car to watch the sun come up.

“It’s gorgeous.” Baekhyun said softly. He leaned back against the windshield, looking straight up right at the part of the sky that blended blue and pink. “It’s so different out here from the city.”

“Isn’t it.” Chanyeol rolled onto his side, propping up on his elbow. Baekhyun turned his head and met his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m good.” Chanyeol bit his bottom lip. “Can I kiss you?”

Baekhyun smiled fondly. “We’ve been dating for two months now, ‘Yeol. You don’t have to ask any more.”

“I want to.” Baekhyun sat up and tossed one leg over Chanyeol’s thighs, straddling him. “I always want to make sure you’re comfortable and that you—that you want it, too.”

“I’ll always want it with you.” Baekhyun murmurs before wrapping his arms around Chanyeol and kissing him.

This was—this was _different_ from earlier. This was harder, and needier, almost more _possessive_ from both of them. Chanyeol’s hands were hard on his waist, up under his hoodie and Baekhyun couldn’t help but fist Chanyeol’s hair and tug his head up, deepening the kiss when one of Chanyeol’s hands went higher and brushed very, _very_ close to his nipple.

“Is this okay?”

Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah, yeah this is—yeah.”

They went right back to kissing, breathing getting hard, and Baekhyun wasn’t ashamed at his body’s reactions to Chanyeol kissing him the way he was—not when Chanyeol’s own body was reacting the same way.

He let out a breathy moan when Chanyeol mouthed at his neck, rolling his hips into Chanyeol’s abdomen, and Chanyeol’s hands hardened on his waist to hold him still.

“Do you want to get in the car?”

“Are we leaving now?” Baekhyun’s breath caught—had he crossed a line? They weren’t talking, but he didn’t think he’d done anything out of the ordinary at all, and—

“No.” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun’s neck. “No, the backseat. It’ll be more comfortable.”

 _Oh._ “Okay.” Baekhyun swallowed and met Chanyeol’s eyes, reading his silent question. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Chanyeol slid off the hood first and Baekhyun followed, situating himself on Chanyeol’s thighs in the backseat the same way he had been on the hood just a few moments earlier after shutting the door.

Chanyeol _growled_ when Baekhyun kissed him again, hands insistent and domineering as he pulled Baekhyun’s hips flush to his own after pulling off his windbreaker to free up his range of motion a bit.

“I want to do something.” He murmured in Baekhyun’s ear as his boyfriend caught his breath, nipping at it. “If you’re okay with—with going further.”

They hadn’t done this before.

“Yeah—I’m good. How far exactly are we…”

“Not as far as you’re thinking.” Chanyeol promised with a soft laugh. “But I’d like to…can I, uh…”

“You’re dating a _nurse_ , Chanyeol.” Baekhyun huffed fondly. “You can just _say_ it.”

“Can I take it out?”

_“It…”_

“I hate you.”

Baekhyun laughed, hiding his face in Chanyeol’s neck. “You can.” He said after a minute, calming himself back down.

Baekhyun let out a slow breath as Chanyeol kissed his neck a couple of times, slipping his pants down and then his underwear.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Baekhyun could only nod as Chanyeol gently fisted the top of his cock, thumbing over the slit softly once.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” He admitted softly, free hand wrapping around Baekhyun’s waist and slipping under his shirt to rub small circles into the sensitive skin there. “Since that first night at your place.”

Baekhyun hummed, head lolling on his neck. “Me too.”

Chanyeol chuckled once and kept kissing Baekhyun’s neck, stroking up and down slowly with his hand and _thriving_ off the way Baekhyun shivered in his lap every time he thumbed over the tip again.

“This…” Baekhyun couldn’t really think straight—he couldn’t think at all, really, thrusting shallowly up into Chanyeol’s hand. “This isn’t fair.”

“Oh?” Chanyeol bit down softly on Baekhyun’s ear. “And what’s so unfair about _this?”_

 _I’m the only one getting anything_. All Baekhyun could respond with was reaching down and fumbling with the drawstring of Chanyeol’s own pants.

“You don’t have to.” Chanyeol murmured, drawing his hand away. “It’s okay.”

“I want to.” Baekhyun responded. He leaned forward and kissed Chanyeol as he started pushing his pants down, drawstring undone, and Chanyeol lifted his hips to let Baekhyun push them and his briefs down in one go.

“Fuck.” Chanyeol was lying lengthwise along the backseat, legs the perfect length of the bench, and his head fell back against the window as Baekhyun’s head dropped to nose along his neck, both hands rubbing his cock slowly. “You have such pretty hands.”

Baekhyun smiled into his neck. “I’m good at this.”

“Oh?” Chanyeol cracked an eye open and raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Baekhyun kissed Chanyeol softly again, pulling away with a smile. “It means my hands are about to get a _lot_ prettier.”

“You— _shit.”_ Chanyeol’s fell back against the window again and he let out a groan, not even trying to keep quiet. “I didn’t think it was _possible.”_

Baekhyun simply hummed, working Chanyeol’s cock and then he let out a moan of his own when Chanyeol’s hand found his own again, leaning against him.

“This is—hold on.” Chanyeol gently nudged Baekhyun’s hand away and Baekhyun moaned _so_ loudly, hand grabbing the back of the seats to keep himself upright, when Chanyeol enveloped both of their cocks in his hand. “Good?”

“Fucking _do_ something.” Baekhyun—he didn’t think he’d ever felt this good. “Dammit, Chanyeol, do something before _I_ do.”

“Okay.” Baekhyun fell against his boyfriend as Chanyeol started jacking them off, first stripping off his denim jacket and then cupping Chanyeol’s cheeks and kissing him.

They were both already so worked up that it didn’t take long for them to come, nearly at the same time and both with tense cries and then soft moans, _whimpers_ in Baekhyun’s own, oversensitive-from-coming-first case, and then both Chanyeol’s arms wrapped around Baekhyun’s back as he collapsed against him.

“Shit.” Baekhyun panted. “Shit, I haven’t done something like that in—so fucking long.”

“It was okay though, right?” Chanyeol’s own breaths were just as heavy as Baekhyun’s. “Like—you’re okay?”

“I’m great.” Baekhyun corrected him. “Exhausted, but great. You’re great.” He angled his head up and Chanyeol hooked his chin to hold him in place and kiss him. “You’re _so_ great.”

Chanyeol smiled, kissed his forehead, and pulled Baekhyun to rest against his broad chest again—the perfect pillow.

Baekhyun’s new favorite pillow.

His last thought as he drifted to sleep was _if I get called in today I’m going to quit._

===

“Have you literally _never_ made brownies before?”

“I have.” Chanyeol stuck his tongue out at Baekhyun who was seated up on the counter, instructions jotted on a spare sheet of notebook paper and in his hand. “Just not from _scratch_. Who the hell makes brownies from _scratch_ these days?”

“Didn’t you make brownies for Mrs. Jung the first time you met her?” Baekhyun’s eyes narrowed on how Chanyeol’s back tensed. “And didn’t you say you _made them yourself?”_

“Making them myself doesn’t imply _from scratch.”_ Chanyeol shot back. “Mrs. Jung didn’t know the difference, did she? So why not just make them from the _box?”_

“It’s more _fun_ this way.” Baekhyun defended. “And we’ve already bought all the ingredients so quit fucking _complaining.”_

“I’m not complaining.” Chanyeol grumbled, stretching up on his toes to grab the mixing bowl from the top shelf of his cabinet.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of your _complaining.”_ Baekhyun grabbed the bag of flour and opened it, as it was the first ingredient on the list, and put it next to the mixing bowl.

“I hate you.” Chanyeol came between Baekhyun’s legs and planted his hands on the counter on either side of Baekhyun’s hips. “A lot.”

“Right.” Baekhyun slung his arms around Chanyeol’s shoulders. “I’m sure.”

Chanyeol smiled softly and then kissed Baekhyun, one hand settling softly on his thigh. His thumb rubbed in small circles and Baekhyun pressed into him, tongue meeting his teasingly before he pulled away.

“Step one.”

“Baek.” Chanyeol grabbed the page and set it on the counter, kissing him again. Baekhyun hummed in amusement against him and used the kiss to distract him, grabbing the list and then pushing him back with a hand on his chest.

 _“Baek_ , baby, come on.”

“Melt a half cup of butter and then mix in sugar, eggs, and vanilla.”

“You are the literal worst.”

Baekhyun’s tongue stuck teasingly between his teeth as Chanyeol pulled the already melted butter from the microwave and measured out the ingredients.

“This isn’t even a two-person job, what’s your role?” Chanyeol said with a snort, mixing everything in gently.

“I’m doing what I do at work.” Baekhyun met Chanyeol’s eyes and gave him a cheeky wink. “Telling other people what to do.”

_“Oh my god.”_

Baekhyun’s laugh was loud and echoed in the tile kitchen, making Chanyeol smile against his will. He wanted to be petty, he really did—but Baekhyun’s laugh was one of his favorite sounds, truly. He couldn’t _help_ but smile when he heard it.

“It’s what I’m good at—a gift, truly.”

“Mhm.” Chanyeol stopped listening, lowering Baekhyun’s hand to read the list and see what step was next.

“It’s what I’m _best_ at, actually.”

“I’m sure.” Chanyeol began measuring out and adding the cocoa, baking powder, and salt.

“Everywhere.”

“Shut the hell up.” Chanyeol shook his head, smiling still as Baekhyun began laughing again.

“Make me.”

Chanyeol shot Baekhyun a deadpan look that made him _fall over_ with the way he burst out laughing—falling to his left, hand hitting the bag of flour and it puffed out all over Chanyeol before Baekhyun could pull it right side up again.

Pure silence.

“That was not my fault” is all Baekhyun said, moving very slowly as he straightened the bag on the counter.

“Really?” As Chanyeol spoke flour puffed from his lips and Baekhyun snorted. Chanyeol’s eyes shot open as he grabbed both the bag of flour and Baekhyun, trapping his _screaming_ boyfriend against his chest and dumping the rest of the bag on him.

“Don’t you fucking— _‘Yeol!”_ Baekhyun shrieked and tried to fight Chanyeol off, but his boyfriend was a tower and an avid gym-goer, so it was, essentially, pointless.

He fought a losing battle.

But, damn, if Baekhyun didn’t _fight._

“Are you happy?” Chanyeol was the one on the floor this time, kneeling among the white powder and _cackling_ as Baekhyun whirled around and crossed his arms. “Is this what you wanted? Look at the _floor_ , Chanyeol, fuck.”

“You…” Chanyeol tried to catch his breath and rested his hands on his thighs, looking up at Baekhyun with a bright smile. “You started it.”

“I most certainly did _not.”_ Baekhyun looked flat out _offended_. “It was an accident. You didn’t have to dump the _entire fucking bag_ on me.”

“I guess not.” Chanyeol stood up and Baekhyun rolled his eyes.

“Don’t—”

“But it made things more fun, didn’t it?” Chanyeol grabbed Baekhyun’s hips and pulled him close, one arm wrapping securely around his back to hold him in place. “A _lot_ more fun.”

“I’m not making out with you while you’re covered in flour.”

“You’re covered in it too, what’s the difference?”

Baekhyun opened and closed his mouth a few times and then cleared his throat. “I hate you.”

“That’s _my_ line.” Chanyeol teased and then kissed Baekhyun, smiling into it just for a moment before they both settled into each other with a sort of sigh.

Chanyeol backed Baekhyun up to the counter and pressed him against it with his own hips, brushing through his hair with his hands now that they were free. Baekhyun let out a soft, almost _needy_ sound and Chanyeol opened his mouth, letting him deepen the kiss as he wanted to.

Baekhyun pulled back to take a breath—and immediately started coughing. Chanyeol was about to laugh but then he started coughing too, and he took a step back until they could breathe normally again.

“We should…”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun coughed once more and then waved his hand in front of his face to chase off the lingering flour. “After?”

Chanyeol looked at the mixing bowl—filled with every ingredient necessary but the flour—and sighed. “We need to finish.”

“Let’s start with cleaning.” Baekhyun stood up straight and shook his hair out, causing a full snow storm as flour drifted to the floor. “Ourselves, preferably.”

“Good idea.” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun softly once more and then stripped his shirt off, tossing it in the sink. “Just throw it all in there so we’re not tracking flour all over the house.” Chanyeol stripped out of his shorts without a second thought and glanced at Baekhyun, who was staring blankly at him—bottom lip between his teeth. Chanyeol smirked.

_“Baek.”_

Baekhyun jumped and leaned back against the counter as Chanyeol towered over him and trapped him in place.

“Yeah?” He wouldn’t meet his eyes, looking at the ceiling. Chanyeol leaned in.

“Take your clothes off, Baekhyun.” He whispered in Baekhyun’s ear and Baekhyun let out a sort of whimper, one hand splayed flat on Chanyeol’s abs. “Take them _all_ off, Baekhyun.” He nipped at Baekhyun’s ear and when he backed away Baekhyun’s face was _red._

“You—you’re a dick.” He stuttered, stripping out of his shirt and then smacking Chanyeol in the chest with it. “Fuck off.”

Chanyeol laughed as Baekhyun stripped down to just his underwear and then headed out of the kitchen and to Chanyeol’s room.

“Grab whatever you want!” Chanyeol called after him, ducking into the bathroom in the hallway.

20 minutes later they were both mostly clean, save for a bit of flour still in their hair, and Chanyeol had just pulled the mop out of the closet when Baekhyun’s phone rang. Chanyeol watched as Baekhyun’s grip on his phone tightened and his face hardened as he swiped to answer and held the device to his ear.

“Now?” A pause. “Oh, shit. Shit—how many, exactly? Who else is on call?” He grabbed a pair of socks off the counter that he’d left for when he and Chanyeol had finished cleaning the kitchen and pulled them on quickly. “No, I’m close though. I can be on my way in 10.”

Chanyeol leaned the mop against the wall as Baekhyun said goodbye and hung up, looking at Chanyeol with a sort of lost look on his face.

“You need to go?”

“There—there was a fire at an apartment complex. They’re calling everyone in.” Baekhyun shook his head apologetically and ran to the door, shoving his feet into his shoes. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I— _fuck.”_ Baekhyun hopped back on one foot as he lost his balance pulling a shoe on, falling against the wall. “I’m such an ass, but I _have_ to.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m not helping to clean up.” Baekhyun took his jacket from Chanyeol and tossed it over his arm.

“It’s okay.” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun, seeming to calm him down just with that. “It’s totally okay, Baek, I promise.” He fluffed his boyfriend’s hair to get rid of some lingering flour. “Just go save some lives or something to make up for it.”

“Okay. Yes—okay.” Baekhyun patted each of the pockets of Chanyeol’s shorts he’d pulled on. “Phone, wallet, keys—I’m good.”

“Call me when you get home?”

“I will.” Chanyeol held the door open and leaned against it for Baekhyun to duck out. Baekhyun grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him softly as he passed. “I’ll do something to make up for this later, okay, I promise. I love you.” One more kiss and Baekhyun was running down the hall back to his own apartment.

Chanyeol watched him go inside, not even bothering to hide his smile.

_“I love you too.”_

===

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve already admitted to it.” Chanyeol dropped one arm over Baekhyun’s shoulder, saluting the cashier with two fingers as Baekhyun began heading towards where they could get their skates. “Remember? You _love_ me.”

“Shut up.”

“You came home after, took a nap, invited me over, and then you blew—”

“Shut _up.”_ Baekhyun pushed Chanyeol off with a muffled laugh. “Shut up. Just—go get your size.”

“Eleven.” Chanyeol wouldn’t let go of Baekhyun’s back, arms around his waist and chin on his shoulder as he addressed the clerk behind the counter.

“Eight.” Baekhyun elbowed Chanyeol in the gut. “Get _off._ Thank you.” He grabbed his skates and then walked off in the other direction and Chanyeol watched him go with a fond smile.

“Feisty.” The clerk put Chanyeol’s skates on the counter. “He’s yours?”

“I sort of signed up for this.” Chanyeol laughed softly and grabbed his skates, said goodbye to the clerk, and then wandered over to sit by Baekhyun who’d already started lacing up one of his skates.

Baekhyun ignored him and Chanyeol kicked his leg as he sat down, smiling when he saw Baekhyun bite down a grin of his own, and then toed out of his shoes.

“Confession time.” Chanyeol slipped his feet into the skates and looked at how Baekhyun was lacing up the last bit of his other skate. “I’ve actually never done this before.”

Baekhyun froze. “You’re kidding.”

“Scouts’ honor.” Chanyeol tied off the top of one of his skates and then looked up at Baekhyun, now standing before him, with a shy smile. “Never been.”

“Your parents never took you as a kid?”

Chanyeol just shook his head. “We never really had it where I grew up.”

“That’s…that’s so fucking _sad,_ bro. My parents took me and my brother every winter.” Baekhyun stomped on the ground a couple of times while Chanyeol took care of his other skate, getting used to balancing again. “My brother used to help me out, but when I got good he turned into an ass and pushed me around a lot.”

“Does your brother live near here?”

“No.” Baekhyun took Chanyeol’s hands and helped him stand up, making sure he had his balance. “He lives in a town near my parents. I’m the only one who branched off.”

“Ah, right.” Baekhyun released Chanyeol, hands hovering close in case he needed help.

“You good?”

“I won’t be when we get on the ice but right now, yeah, I’m feeling pretty confident.”

Baekhyun snorted. “Okay then, Mr. Confession Time, let’s get you out there.”

Chanyeol, like any other beginner, really, clung to the wall while he got a feel for how slippery the ice was and how thin the blades were. Baekhyun made sure he was good and then skated around a bit more towards the middle of the rink and Chanyeol paused, mesmerized with how smoothly he moved along the ice.

“We didn’t have to do this.” Baekhyun returned to his boyfriend. “You didn’t _tell_ me that you’d never done this before, you idiot.”

“You looked excited mentioning it.” Chanyeol shrugged and took Baekhyun’s outstretched hand, releasing the wall. “Besides, I feel like you don’t actually _live_ until you’ve gone ice skating, you know?”

Baekhyun cocked his head. “That’s fair. Wanna venture?”

“No one ever got anywhere sticking to the wall.” Chanyeol squeezed Baekhyun’s hand and Baekhyun squeezed back, hand tight and stable as he led Chanyeol from the edge.

Chanyeol, as it turned out, was a natural at ice skating for once he got a feel for the thin blades and found his balance he was letting go of Baekhyun’s hand and skating forward. Never too far, and Baekhyun would shadow him closely, but he was figuring it out.

“You’re doing well.” Baekhyun joined Chanyeol at the edge when he skated aside, leaning against it for a break. “Really well.”

“My teacher?” Chanyeol pulled Baekhyun closer to him with a smile. “Couldn’t be better.”

Baekhyun hummed softly and reached up, brushing a vibrant red bang from Chanyeol’s forehead. “You can’t be a great teacher without an equally as brilliant student.”

Chanyeol shrugged, “if you insist,” and then he leaned down and kissed him.

It was soft, a long peck, if anything, and when Chanyeol pulled away Baekhyun couldn’t meet his eyes.

Chanyeol held both his hands in his and he squeezed, head cocking to the side.

Baekhyun took a slow breath. “You’re right.” He said softly, shuffling forward. “I _do_ love you.”

Chanyeol scrunched his nose adorably, a victorious smile on his face. “I know.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay.” Baekhyun turned around and released his hands. “I take it back. Fuck you.”

Chanyeol’s laugh was loud behind him as he grabbed Baekhyun’s waist, dug his own skates into the ice, and dragged him back. “I love you too.” He murmured softly, kissing the side of Baekhyun’s head. “Better?”

“Much.” Baekhyun pressed back into Chanyeol for just a second and then skated forward. “Come skate with me, Chanyeol.” He held his hand out with a smile and a soft look in his eyes. “Let’s get my money’s worth.”

===

Baekhyun fell right against Chanyeol’s chest the second his boyfriend opened the door.

“Tired.” He mumbled. “So fucking tired.”

“I know.” Chanyeol walked Baekhyun inside, shut the door, and then scooped his boyfriend up and carried him back to his bedroom. “Shower first? Or nap?”

This wasn’t the first time Chanyeol was dealing with a post-graveyard shift Baekhyun, and, not going to lie, he _loved_ that Baekhyun preferred just coming over to his apartment to let Chanyeol dote on him than going to his own home, even if Chanyeol’s was a longer walk from the elevator.

“Shower.” Baekhyun yawned and ran a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly to try and wake himself up. “We had a car wreck come in at like four. I was in and out of trauma rooms for a couple hours and I feel…gross.”

Chanyeol carried Baekhyun right into the bathroom and set him gently on the tile, making sure he had his footing before he released him.

“I’ll go get you something to wear.” Baekhyun nodded and let Chanyeol kiss him gently twice before he left the bathroom, and Baekhyun turned on the shower.

He left the door unlocked and Chanyeol left a stack of his own clothes on the counter, heading into the kitchen after calling to Baekhyun and assuring him that he had everything he should need, and to take his time.

Some days Baekhyun was in and out of the shower in mere minutes—exhausted and just wanting to pass out in bed. Some days, though, things were hard and Baekhyun had to witness some hard stuff, obey some tough calls, and he’d linger in the shower for closer to half an hour, sometimes even longer.

Chanyeol never rushed him. Ever.

The shower was Baekhyun’s sort of safe place—where he could physically rid himself of whatever remnants stuck to him after he left the hospital. He needed the time.

Half an hour later Chanyeol came back to check on him and found Baekhyun in his bed, all curled up on the opposite side Chanyeol usually slept on—the side that had unspokenly become _Baekhyun’s_ —blankets pulled over his shoulder and knees near his chest.

Chanyeol smiled softly and shut the door.

Two hours later Baekhyun stumbled into the kitchen with a yawn, one hand brushing through his bed hair while his other pulled the pantry open.

“I made biscuits.” Chanyeol pulled his headphones off and let them hang around his neck as he saved his current project. “I had a breakfast sandwich earlier. Want me to make you something?”

Baekhyun found the container where Chanyeol had put the leftover biscuits and began eating one, shaking his head. Chanyeol closed his laptop and set his headphones on top of it, standing up with a stretch and a soft groan before heading into the kitchen after Baekhyun.

“You sure?”

Baekhyun simply nodded. “It was a long night. I, uh, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to stomach anything more, really.”

“Ah.” It was one of those nights. “Okay. Need anything?”

“A hug?”

Chanyeol enveloped Baekhyun in his arms, head cradled to his shoulder with one large hand brushing through his hair as Baekhyun’s arms wrapped around his own waist. Baekhyun took a deep breath and squeezed, pressing into Chanyeol.

“Wanna go lay down?”

Baekhyun nodded and Chanyeol took his hand, kissed it, and then led him over to the couch. Chanyeol laid down first and then tugged on Baekhyun’s hand.

“Come on, love.”

Baekhyun sort of crawled over Chanyeol to fit in the spot he liked between Chanyeol’s side and the back of the couch, on his side with one leg slotted between both of Chanyeol’s. He folded into the little hole, head on Chanyeol’s shoulder, and Chanyeol kept one hand brushing through his hair, still, and his other hand pulled a blanket over them.

“I’m still tired.” Baekhyun’s voice was slurred a bit because of his position on Chanyeol’s chest. “I might go back to sleep.”

“That’s okay.” Chanyeol reached up and adjusted the pillow under his head for just a moment until he was in a place he’d be comfortable in for a while. “I’ll be here.”

“You can leave me and go get more work done, you know.”

“I can do it here.” Chanyeol put one hand under the small table by the couch and moved it over so it was in front of him now, grabbing his headphones and then opening his laptop. “You just go back to sleep. Whatever you need, Baek.”

“You’re the best.” Baekhyun murmured, eyes closing. “I’m so lucky. I love you.”

Chanyeol smiled and kissed Baekhyun’s forehead before fitting his headphones over his head, arm still around Baekhyun, and got to work.

Baekhyun shifted a bit as he slept, moving around to get comfortable, and it wasn’t for another hour that he finally, truly woke up.

Chanyeol pulled his headphones off and set them aside but didn’t stop working. Baekhyun propped his chin up on Chanyeol’s chest.

“Can I hear it?”

“You wanna listen?” Chanyeol met his eyes and smiled when Baekhyun nodded. “Yeah—of course you can. Hold on just one sec.”

He unplugged his headphones completely and then restarted the piece, and they both laid still on the couch as it played.

“It’s short.” Chanyeol said after the minute and 17 seconds had passed. “But I’m at the next bridge, so part of that is copying and pasting and adding a few minors to change it up and darken it, which is what we’re going for.”

“It’s really good.” Baekhyun said softly. “Holy shit, ‘Yeol, you’re so talented.”

“You think so?”

Baekhyun sat up, one hand on the couch and one on Chanyeol’s chest. “I _know_ so.” He looked a lot more awake now. A lot better. He must have slept off whatever had happened. “My boyfriend is the _best.”_

“He’s pretty great.” Chanyeol closed his laptop and then wrapped both arms around Baekhyun’s back. “Mine’s better, though.”

“You—I—no, no, take the fucking compliment.” Baekhyun laughed. He shifted over so he was straddling Chanyeol’s thighs and he smiled at him, both hands on his chest.

“I can’t take _that_ compliment when my boyfriend is right here, being absolutely amazing.” Chanyeol’s gym shorts were way too big on Baekhyun so when Chanyeol rubbed his thighs his hands went underneath the fabric, rubbing right onto the still-warm-from-under-the-blanket thighs. He squeezed them teasingly and Baekhyun—Baekhyun fucking _giggled._

Oh, that was cute. Chanyeol was definitely saving that for later.

“You liked that?”

Baekhyun laughed again and shook his head. “Squeeze any harder and things are going to be taking a turn.” He cupped both of Chanyeol’s cheeks and laid down on his chest to kiss him.

Chanyeol’s hands squeezed Baekhyun’s thighs rhythmically as they made out lazily on the couch, blanket still half over them though mostly off now that they were both moving.

Baekhyun let out a soft moan as Chanyeol’s grip tightened.

“A turn?”

“A turn we haven’t made yet.” Baekhyun rolled his hips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Chanyeol squeezed Baekhyun’s thighs again just to hear him—to _feel_ him—moan into his mouth again. “A lot. And I’d like to make the turn.”

Baekhyun didn’t even hesitate, didn’t even pause rolling his hips. “Me too.”

Their kiss after that was hungry, desperate, more pushing against each other and less of a lazy mess of tongues. Chanyeol sucked on Baekhyun’s bottom lip until he moaned again, loudly this time, unabashedly, and then he released it.

“My room.” He sat up, pushing Baekhyun up with him. “Let’s go to my room.”

Baekhyun followed Chanyeol down the hall and then literally _pushed_ him back onto the bed, climbing right into his lap and planting his knees on the mattress. “You have lube and shit? Condoms? Please say yes.”

“In my drawer.” Chanyeol said before kissing Baekhyun again, hands slipping up under his too-big sweatshirt to push it and the shirt underneath it off in one go. Chanyeol had seen Baekhyun shirtless before, but never like this, and he couldn’t help but lean forward to kiss his way all the way down Baekhyun’s neck, tweaking one of his nipples.

“Shit.” Baekhyun let out a breath, hands cupping Chanyeol’s head as he started sucking on the other one. _“Fuck_ , ‘Yeol.”

Chanyeol released his nipple when it was red and irritated and Baekhyun was _whimpering_ , hands fisting Chanyeol’s hair. He let out a couple of shaky breaths, air ghosting over Baekhyun’s chest, and then allowed his boyfriend to angle his head up for a kiss.

Chanyeol rolled them over and Baekhyun’s legs wrapped around his waist as he held him near, hips rolling up to meet Chanyeol’s own in short, desperate thrusts.

“Your turn.” Baekhyun grabbed at the hem of Chanyeol’s t-shirt. “Off. Now.”

“Okay, okay.” Chanyeol chuckled and stripped his shirt over his head, the light caught the mirror behind him, and then everything seemed to slow down.

Baekhyun’s eyes followed the light reflecting through the mirror attached to Chanyeol’s dresser on the side wall and they drifted down, finding his and Chanyeol’s figures in the mirror, and then his eyes landed on Chanyeol’s broad back.

His broad back stained _black._

It seemed there were two darkest points, right over his shoulder blades, and the black seemed to fade around it until it went back to his regular skin. Was—was that a burn? An injury? What happened?

Was Chanyeol _okay?_

“Holy shit.”

“What?” Chanyeol tossed his shirt aside and fell over Baekhyun, arms on either side of his head and the angle hid Chanyeol’s back from Baekhyun’s view. “Are you okay?”

“I…yeah.” Baekhyun dragged his eyes from the mirror and met Chanyeol’s eyes, swallowing thickly. “I’m good. Are you?”

Chanyeol smiled softly. “I’m great, yeah. Wanna keep going?”

Baekhyun nodded and offered his boyfriend a smile of his own. “Fuck yes.”

Chanyeol laughed and then kissed Baekhyun again, with Baekhyun’s legs wrapped around his waist he was able to worm one arm under his back to hold him up and crawl further towards the center of the bed.

Baekhyun couldn’t stop his hands from roaming all of Chanyeol’s chest, and then his back. Chanyeol reached over to the nightstand and dug around inside for the condoms and lube, depositing them on the bed.

Baekhyun’s nails dug into Chanyeol’s back, right over his shoulders when Chanyeol rolled his hips down and caught him in another kiss. No upraised skin—not like a normal burn scar.

In fact, the skin felt completely normal, and Baekhyun was touching right where the black was earlier.

_What the fuck?_

Chanyeol kissed all the way down Baekhyun’s abdomen and Baekhyun lifted his hips, allowing Chanyeol to pull his shorts and underwear off and toss them back on the floor.

Baekhyun was already incredibly hard and his legs automatically fell open as Chanyeol kissed up the inside of his left thigh, up and across his hip and then he keened when Chanyeol started kissing his cock.

“F-fuck.” Baekhyun stuttered softly, hands in Chanyeol’s hair as his boyfriend began sucking him off. They’d only done this a handful of times but Chanyeol was still obviously _incredibly_ experienced, especially when, without Baekhyun noticing _exactly_ when, a lubed finger pressed against his entrance.

“Can I?”

Baekhyun bit his lower lip, met Chanyeol’s eyes, and nodded, and—well, honestly, it was all over for him from there. All abilities of forming coherent thought left him as Chanyeol began working him open, kissing and biting all along the thin skin stretched over Baekhyun’s hip bones until he was literally _crying_ , begging for Chanyeol to please, _please_ just fuck him already.

Chanyeol shoved his own pants down and pulled the condom on, and Baekhyun really couldn’t keep his hands off of his boyfriend as he situated himself back between Baekhyun’s legs, buried his face in his neck, and pushed in.

 _“Oh.”_ Baekhyun’s nails dug into Chanyeol’s back and Chanyeol hissed. “Holy—holy _fuck_ , ‘Yeol.”

“Are you good?” Chanyeol let out a slow breath and nuzzled behind Baekhyun’s ear. “Baby?”

Baekhyun swallowed and nodded. “Give me just a—just a second.”

He took two deep breaths and Chanyeol kept one hand on his waist, thumb circling the skin softly.

“It’s been so long but even—even so, you’re big.”

Chanyeol chuckled into his neck. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Baek.”

“My mouth isn’t my _ass_ , so shut up.”

Chanyeol kissed his neck a couple of times, other hand fisting the covers.

Baekhyun wasn’t the only one having a hard time. He was tight—and hot. Every one of Chanyeol’s instincts screamed fuck—bite, possess, love and claim and care and—Chanyeol let out a breath.

_Calm._

“’Yeol?”

“Hm?” Baekhyun rolled his hips and Chanyeol let out a groan. “Good?”

“Mhm.” Baekhyun kissed Chanyeol deeply, mouths wide open. It was _filthy_ , damnit, but also so, so sweet. “Fuck me?”

“When you say it like that.” Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun shortly once more and then thrusted into him, watching the way Baekhyun’s head fell against the mattress and his mouth fell open.

“Again.”

Chanyeol grunted softly, thrusting again and again, harder and harder, until he finally sat up, knees under Baekhyun’s legs and hands on his thighs, and _really_ started fucking into him.

“Oh—oh _shit_ , ‘Yeol—harder, _god_ harder.” Baekhyun’s hands were everywhere, on Chanyeol’s waist and on his own thighs and then Chanyeol’s ass, pulling him deeper. They couldn’t seem to settle, though, couldn’t seem to really _grab_ anything and Chanyeol finally just grabbed them and pressed them into the mattress on either side of Baekhyun’s head, letting his boyfriend squeeze for something to ground him.

“You’re so fucking amazing.” Chanyeol’s voice had a sort of edge to it, one Baekhyun couldn’t quite place—not that he was in the headspace for it. His voice sounded lower than usual, almost a _growl_. “So fucking _gorgeous._ I love you.”

Baekhyun simply moaned, short and choppy with each thrust, eyes shut. He squeezed Chanyeol’s hands—“god, fucking _hell_ I love you t—oh _god”_ —and his legs slipped off Chanyeol’s waist. They were both too sweaty now, they couldn’t get a grip on anything either, and _fuck_ he was really, really close.

“Ch—Chanyeol I—fuck I’m gonna come.” Baekhyun sobbed. “I’m—”

Chanyeol simply kissed him and let go of one of his hands, grabbing the headboard to use it as leverage to thrust faster and deeper, to push Baekhyun closer and Baekhyun reached down to jack himself off.

“I’m—I’m—oh, oh _oh my god_ —Chanyeol!” Chanyeol didn’t slow down as Baekhyun’s back arched and he came, hand flying to grip the covers as his other squeezed the _life_ out of Chanyeol’s, still tight in his grip.

Chanyeol just sort of humped, thrusting shallowly into Baekhyun a few more times before he was coming, too, flooding the condom and Baekhyun let out a weak moan.

“Motherfucker.” Chanyeol collapsed over Baekhyun, barely catching himself on his forearms. _“Fuck,_ Baek. Fuck.”

Baekhyun let out a single, soft laugh. “I love you.” He wrapped his noodle arms around Chanyeol’s neck to pull him down to lie flat on his chest. “A lot, ‘Yeol. A _lot.”_

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” Chanyeol murmured in response. “I really, really love you, Baek.”

Baekhyun smiled, hummed, and let Chanyeol kiss him. He opened his mouth and, exhausted completely, Chanyeol took control. They made out lazily for a few minutes, and Baekhyun didn’t speak until Chanyeol had stood up and stumbled to toss the condom in the trash, about to head for the bathroom.

“Do you love me enough to let me take another nap?”


	4. Something Strange

“It’s not often _you’re_ the one leaving for work.” Baekhyun teased softly. Chanyeol laughed and kissed his cheek as Baekhyun unlocked his door.

“I know. What are the odds, right?”

Baekhyun hadn’t left Chanyeol’s apartment since they’d fucked, two whole days ago, wandering around in Chanyeol’s clothes and letting Chanyeol pin him to any surface (and doing some pinning of his own) to make out. They fucked a couple more times—neither as sensual as the first time, entirely lust filled—Baekhyun rode Chanyeol on the couch and then Chanyeol held Baekhyun against the tiled-shower wall, arm muscles bulging as he fucked him in the hot steam from the shower.

“Well, have fun running off to be a big scary music producer.” Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol’s tie—his boyfriend, he’d discovered, looked absolutely _amazing_ in suits—and leaned against his doorframe. “I’m going to go take a real fucking shower without you to _distract_ me.”

“I don’t remember you complaining.” Chanyeol smiled and then kissed Baekhyun hard, both hands on his hips to hold him close. Baekhyun didn’t release his tie, wrapping his other arm around Chanyeol’s shoulders and pushing up on his toes.

“Because I wasn’t.” Baekhyun leaned his forehead against Chanyeol’s, noses brushing, and they were just about to kiss again when a throat cleared.

The two shot apart, Baekhyun’s head hit the doorframe and Chanyeol stepped away into the hall as they both turned towards the end of the hall and spotted Yixing closing his apartment door, a smile on his face.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Baekhyun crossed his arms and met Chanyeol’s eyes. “Is he?”

“Nope.” Chanyeol hooked Baekhyun’s chin and kissed him hotly once more before standing up, buttoning his suit jacket, and picking up his bag. “Yixing, are you heading for the elevator?”

“I am.”

“I’ll walk with you, then.” Chanyeol winked at Baekhyun and then joined Yixing as he passed them, both men wandering towards the other end of the hallway.

Baekhyun rolled his eyes and went into his apartment, leaning against the door after it shut. He—not that anyone would know—put his hands over his mouth and _squealed_. Like a child.

That’s what he felt like, though. With Chanyeol things were so easy, he wasn’t overthinking anything like he had a tendency to do. Chanyeol was fun and spontaneous and always willing to try new things and Baekhyun was absolutely, entirely in love.

He dumped his stuff in his room and went right to the bathroom—he _did_ need a shower, since the one he tried to take had been…interrupted.

It wasn’t until Baekhyun was stripping his shirt off that he remembered the strange marks on Chanyeol’s back. He turned around and looked at his own back in the mirror—pale and plain and smooth.

What could Chanyeol’s marks be? If they were some sort of scar then they’d be ridged, bumpy and not smooth. They almost looked like tattoos, but there was something… _off_ about them.

Of course, working in the emergency room, Baekhyun was no stranger to unusual marks, and he knew better than to outright _ask_ about them, knowing just how rude that could be but…well, if he and Chanyeol were truly at the state in their relationship Baekhyun felt they were at then why hadn’t Chanyeol mentioned them before?

They certainly didn’t seem to _pain_ him in any way, not if the way Baekhyun had been clutching at Chanyeol’s back and scratching it up all weekend had anything to prove.

Baekhyun thought the whole time he was in the shower and when he was clean and had eaten something he laid right down on his bed, stomach-down and laptop open, to do some research.

What…what did he even look up?

_Black marks._

That was too broad. And stupid.

_Back shoulder black marks._

Shocker—nothing relevant.

_Smooth burn marks._

Baekhyun tried opening up the images tab, scrolling through a variety of different types of burns—all things he’d seen plenty of in the emergency room. Nothing resembled anything like what Chanyeol had, until he reached the bottom.

A cartoon sort of drawing of figure with black holes on his back.

Baekhyun clicked the link.

 _Mythical creatures._ The website title read. _Category: Angels. Subcategory: Fallen._

“No fucking way.” Baekhyun murmured, shaking his head. “There’s no—no _way.”_ He scrolled through the page, reading a routine of removing an angel’s wings when they anger their—council?—about soaking them in acid and then casting the angel out and Baekhyun scoffed.

Right. Because angels are _real_ now.

He scrolled over to the _angels_ category and clicked on a few other tabs, reading with a sort of disbelief.

_You’re kidding._

Baekhyun got through a couple of other creatures, too, just to _see_ what people thought was out there but it got so _insane_ that he slammed his laptop shut.

A load of _bullshit._ He needed something _real._

Angels—mythical creatures of all sorts, really. That whole fucking website was a _joke._ People _believed_ that shit?

His phone went off then, and he couldn’t help how he smiled when he saw Chanyeol’s name on his home screen.

_Is it pouring there too? I’m getting a hotel room for the night :( don’t wanna risk anything. Talk later?_

Baekhyun glanced up, pausing for a moment and listening—it was raining. When the hell did that happen?

Had he really been looking through that stupid website for three hours? That’s what his phone read, three hours since he sat down.

Sure, he’d gotten a bit sidetracked in the mythical creatures they had listed—but just because he was curious. It was interesting—like reading a children’s book. Like believing in Santa—what he wished he could still believe was real but real life taught him better than that.

Angels weren’t real. Nothing on that website was real—no vampires, no incubi, no phoenixes, no unicorns. None of that shit was real.

 _Chanyeol_ was real. And Baekhyun needed an explanation equally as real to match his boyfriend, and to match just how real his feelings were for him.

===

“I saw something interesting today.”

“Oh?” Chanyeol glanced up at Baekhyun from where he’d been skimming an email on his computer. Tonight was a lazy night, both of them having had a busy week, and they were on the couch watching tv as they ate takeout for dinner.

“Mhm.” Baekhyun looked over at Chanyeol for half a second and then stabbed into his takeout box with his chopsticks. “Some big house fire. Whole family got caught inside and almost all of them came in with burns.”

“Isn’t that the kind of thing you see a lot?” Chanyeol shut his laptop and reclined against the couch, picking his own box back up and propping his feet on the coffee table.

“Yeah.” Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Well, sort of. Third degree burns actually aren’t as common as you might think—not like this. The youngest…” Baekhyun swallowed and put his now empty box down. “Her whole arm was black.”

“Ouch.” Chanyeol scrunched his face up and set his box aside, holding his arm up. Baekhyun took the invitation and curled under it, head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. Baekhyun considered himself so, so lucky that Chanyeol had a thick stomach.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but Chanyeol was totally okay with Baekhyun bringing up what he’d seen at work. The last guy Baekhyun had “dated”—using the term _loosely_ —had told Baekhyun that there was to be absolutely _no_ work talk at home. Even blood from paper cuts nauseated him.

They didn’t last long after that.

“It was—it was really fucking bad.” Baekhyun bit his lip. “It was so black and…” he let out a shaky breath. “Bumpy. Bleeding. She didn’t stop screaming.”

Chanyeol’s arm crooked up at the elbow and he began soothingly brushing his fingers through Baekhyun’s post-work shower damp hair.

“I’ve always thought burns are the worst.” He continued softly. “You can’t really wrap bad ones, and it gets so bad you can _see_ the bone. I saw her ulna, ‘Yeol—her fucking _bone_ and we had to sedate her so we could treat her. A 3-year-old. Her mom was in surgery.”

Chanyeol stayed silent, simply breathing.

“You know basic fire safety, right? I don’t ever want to see you coming in looking like that. I don’t ever want you to be hurt like that.”

Chanyeol still didn’t respond and Baekhyun turned his head, eyes worried.

“’Yeol? Did I say something?”

Chanyeol started and looked at Baekhyun, blinking a couple times. “What? Oh—no, sorry. Lost in thought.”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol leaned his head back against the couch. “I got a bad burn a while back.”

Baekhyun shifted, leaning closer. “What was it?”

Part of Baekhyun thought he would say his back.

“My hand.”

_Oh._

“I was curious about the stove.” Chanyeol chuckled nervously. “So I planted my hand on it. It was on.”

Baekhyun snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“But I’m _your_ idiot.” Chanyeol nosed his hairline and Baekhyun shook his head, pursing his lips to keep from smiling.

“I’d like to return you.”

“Nope.” Chanyeol managed to smoothly maneuver Baekhyun around to straddle his thighs. “No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds.”

 _“Why_ are you quoting Aladdin?” Chanyeol had never seen it, so they had a movie night a couple nights ago. Apparently the movie made more of an impression on Chanyeol than Baekhyun originally thought.

“Because it’s a quality quote.” Chanyeol teased, leaning in. He bopped their noses together and then kissed Baekhyun softly. “I feel like it sums up our relationship pretty well.”

“Sadly.”

“Shut up.” Chanyeol smiled and kissed Baekhyun again, hands on his waist. Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol’s shirt and pulled it over his head before grabbing his shoulders and pushing him to the side, to lay down lengthwise on the couch.

He bent down so his face was right in front of Chanyeol’s.

“Make me.”

===

Life went on. The days continued, Baekhyun’s schedule remained hectic with Chanyeol as his safe haven, though Chanyeol, too, started getting busy.

As a major music producer for a popular group whose song got chosen to be one of the title tracks for their comeback album, he was attending lots of meetings and driving to the inner part of the city nearly every other day—which, sadly, contradicted Baekhyun’s own schedule almost perfectly.

It was then that Chanyeol gifted Baekhyun with something he’d never gotten far enough into any of his other relationships to even consider—a key to his apartment.

 _“Just come over when you can.”_ Chanyeol had pulled Baekhyun into his lap while the nurse looked at the shiny new key in his hand. _“Please. I’ll take whatever time with you I can get.”_

Baekhyun used the key often. Sometimes he’d come home to Chanyeol working, or listening to music and cooking, or showering (in which he’d make the decision to, more often than not, join him). Sometimes he’d come home to an empty apartment and pass out in bed or on the couch and wake up with Chanyeol wrapped around him, sleeping, breaths steady on his neck.

Baekhyun would always be quiet when entering, never sure exactly what Chanyeol was up to and not wanting to disturb him if he was working, simply toeing out of his shoes if his boyfriend was working in the living room and heading right for the kitchen.

Coming home to a completely silent house was something that never really happened, though, so Baekhyun was surprised when he saw that Chanyeol’s laptop sat closed on the kitchen table and all the lights were off.

“’Yeol?” He called softly, one hand on the wall as he slipped his shoes off. He dumped his bag by the closet and wandered down the small hallway. “Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol’s bedroom door was cracked and Baekhyun caught sight of his boyfriend passed out in bed, shirtless and on his stomach with the blanket gathered around his waist.

Baekhyun huffed a small laugh—Chanyeol slept like a damn _child_ when he slept alone—and then crept into the room to fix the blanket and grab his stuff to shower.

Upon approaching him he paused, biting his lip. The marks—the strange marks on his back. Baekhyun had completely forgotten about them.

Now they were out in the open, completely on display and Baekhyun couldn’t help but reach forward, fingers feather-light as they traced along Chanyeol’s back. The skin—he was right. The skin was completely smooth but there was something about the two spots, something just in the way they _felt_ that felt wrong. Dark.

Just…bad.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows furrowed as his thumb swept over the mark again.

What…just _what_ had happened?

“I was wondering if you’d noticed them ever.”

Baekhyun jerked back as though he’d just touched a live flame, stumbling back. How long had Chanyeol been up?

“I’m—I’m really sorry, I was just…”

“It’s okay.” Chanyeol sat up with a stretch and a yawn. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought them up to ask yet.”

“I work in a hospital, Chanyeol.” Baekhyun had never felt uncomfortable in front of Chanyeol before yet here he was, standing in front of his half-awake boyfriend, hands in his scrub pockets and fisting nervously. “I’ve seen my fair share of strange marks and scars. I didn’t want to be rude.”

Chanyeol paused and looked at how far away Baekhyun was standing. “I’m not mad or anything, Baek. You can come here if you want.”

“You sure?”

Chanyeol gave him such a deadpan look that Baekhyun took his outstretched hand and let Chanyeol pull him to the bed.

“I’m _sure.”_

“Can you…” Baekhyun cleared his throat and took a deep breath. _The worst thing he can say is no._ “Can I know what happened?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Chanyeol responded, hand still holding Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun turned to face him and crossed his legs on the bed, squeezing Chanyeol’s hand. Another first—he’d never seen Chanyeol look so…so _small_.

So _wrong_.

“Try me.” Baekhyun leaned forward. “Please, ‘Yeol. _Please_ tell me. I…I want to know. I want to _be here_ for you, you know? Whatever this is—was. Please.”

Chanyeol didn’t say anything.

“I read an article on fallen angels and wings, Chanyeol, nothing’s going to surprise me anymore.”

Chanyeol froze, breath catching. Baekhyun’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Chanyeol, _what_ the fuck.”

“I’m not an angel.” Chanyeol was quick to turn to him and say. “Angels are—a totally different—no, that’s not it.”

Baekhyun cocked his head. “I’m completely lost, Chanyeol, please. What the hell happened?”

“I had wings.” Chanyeol admitted softly after a good three minutes of silence, breathing in and holding it as though he would say something before just deflating. “But they were—removed.”

Baekhyun blinked. “Wha—I… _what?”_

Chanyeol took a deep breath and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not, uh, human, Baek.”

Baekhyun simply looked at him. Chanyeol chuckled dryly.

“I’m a phoenix.”

“A _what_ now?”

“A phoenix. Well, a phoenix sort of hybrid.” Chanyeol glanced at Baekhyun for just a second and then let go of his hand—it wasn’t hard. Baekhyun’s grip had slackened completely. Chanyeol put his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over his face. “I’m from a different galaxy—too far away for it to even have a true distance from here.”

Chanyeol couldn’t look at Baekhyun, didn’t even want to know what his face looked like. “I was a Colonel of our army and we were in the middle of a war, and I broke a _bullshit_ rule that got me exiled and got my wings removed—”

Chanyeol’s voice cracked and he stopped, taking a breath.

Baekhyun’s voice was unwavering when he finally spoke. “You need to explain what the fuck you’re talking about right now.”

Chanyeol nodded and stood up. Baekhyun immediately slid away from him, back on the bed. “What are you doing?”

“You won’t believe a word of what I’m going to say unless I show you. Trust me, okay?”

Baekhyun didn’t respond, he looked almost… _scared,_ and Chanyeol was so close to _breaking_. He couldn’t blame him, though. He sounded insane even to himself.

He’d never spoken of this.

Chanyeol faced the door, his back to Baekhyun, took a deep breath, and dug into himself. He threw himself right back into all those painful memories, the overwhelming distress at losing his wings and the emptiness he felt for the first couple years he was on Earth, the loneliness, the fear.

He felt a burning on his back—not like the burning when his wings were taken. No, this was a warm burn. Pleasant. Comforting. Familiar—the burn very similar to what he felt when he used to call his wings to him.

No wings now, though. Chanyeol just had the scars and his tattoo to remind him of all he’d lost.

Baekhyun let out a shriek and then clamped his hands over his mouth, watching the shape of a phoenix take over most of Chanyeol’s back. The lines started soft red and darkened over the course of about a minute, showing a phoenix with its wings outstretched over each of Chanyeol’s shoulders, tail trailing all the way down his back. The wings of the tattoo matched where the burn marks were and Baekhyun sat up straight again, looking at the black spots.

Even they looked different.

He stood up and before he could help it “can I touch it?” was leaving his mouth, right hand outstretched.

Chanyeol turned his head to look at him and he nodded, rolling his shoulders up and back.

Baekhyun’s fingers started at the tip of the phoenix’s beak, head facing Chanyeol’s left shoulder, and he traced over the whole head and over the wing on the right. He followed the outermost line of the tattoo all the way around, down the tail and then up around Chanyeol’s left shoulder. Inside the line he was tracing there were such intricate details, thin lines of feathers and shading and texture, even the eye of the phoenix was so…so _real._

Chanyeol flinched when Baekhyun’s hand skimmed over the black spots and now—now they were scars. Upraised and bumpy, hardened, and…dark. Baekhyun couldn’t figure out just how they felt but they felt dark.

_Wrong._

The outline of the phoenix was warm, almost, and welcoming. There was something absolutely horrible about the black scars—they were cold.

“What happened?”

“I broke a law.” Chanyeol swallowed. “I was on the battlefront and I didn’t know about new laws that were made because we were going under some sort of reform, and I called a retreat for my troops which was, apparently, illegal. So I was arrested, charged with treason, my wings were removed and then I was exiled here.”

Baekhyun’s fingers couldn’t stop tracing the tattoo and Chanyeol shivered under his touch. Up to this point he’d been too, well, _scared_ to look at his tattoo, to summon it. It was too close to all that he’d lost. He just _couldn’t_.

“God.”

Chanyeol’s eyes were closed and his hands fisted at his sides.

 _“God_ , Chanyeol. That’s so,” Baekhyun’s hands skimmed down each of Chanyeol’s arms from behind and he grabbed both of his hands, unwinding his fists and lacing his own hands with them, his palm to the back of Chanyeol’s hands. He wrapped his arms around Chanyeol’s waist and leaned close, kissing right on Chanyeol’s spine, in the middle of his tattoo. “I’m so sorry.”

Chanyeol let out a sob, squeezing Baekhyun’s hands. He hadn’t cried since he’d been here, hadn’t allowed himself to be so upset about it, hadn’t granted himself the vulnerability when there was so much he needed to do.

Baekhyun held Chanyeol up and gently pulled him back to the bed—“’Yeol, I know, come on, okay? You’re so big, help me out”—and then let Chanyeol collapse on top of him. Chanyeol laid stomach down on Baekhyun’s chest, arms around his waist and head in the crook of his neck, and cried.

It was fucking _heartbreaking._ Chanyeol’s sobs brought tears to Baekhyun’s own eyes and he didn’t know what else to do other than brush through Chanyeol’s hair. The red of his hair—it was fading, but back when they met it was extremely vibrant—it was similar to the colors on Chanyeol’s back. Baekhyun wondered if that was on purpose but he decided that was a question for another time.

Baekhyun didn’t say anything—what could he say? What could he _do?_

Somehow, while shocking at first, Baekhyun wasn’t all that phased by the whole “phoenix” thing. Of course it was hard to believe but, well, when Chanyeol’s tattoo appeared _right_ in front of Baekhyun’s eyes how was he supposed to believe anything other than what Chanyeol told him?

And touching the tattoo, the scars—there was something there. It was almost like they were _vibrating_ , in a way, on a different wavelength. Like they didn’t belong here—on Earth. Like they belonged somewhere where Chanyeol could _fly_.

Baekhyun couldn’t explain it so he just gave up, focusing on keeping his boyfriend from completely falling apart.

“I’m here.” Baekhyun kissed his forehead softly. Chanyeol tightened his hold on his waist. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

===

It wasn’t until two days later that Chanyeol felt put together enough to sit down with Baekhyun and tell him that he could ask questions if he had any.

“Who knows.” Chanyeol had smiled and shrugged, shirtless. Since he’d revealed his tattoo he’d kept it uncovered and able to breathe, on display. He seemed happier. More comfortable. Every time Baekhyun saw it he was mesmerized and he traced over it every opportunity he had, even calling in to work sick just to be there for Chanyeol. “Maybe talking about it will make things easier?”

So Baekhyun asked questions. He asked every question he thought of and would watch as Chanyeol’s eyes lit up, smiling as he’d talk about his parents, or his sister, his days in training camp with his friends, how they lived.

What they ate, the ceremonies they had, the holidays they celebrated, how they rose and fell, for the most part, with the sun.

“It sounds amazing.” Baekhyun said softly after Chanyeol had finished telling him about his people’s elaborate music festivals—the full week where everyone slept very little, if at all, and it was seen as a time where everyone could simply let loose and relax. There had been one just before Chanyeol had been sent to battle, and it was one of his favorite memories.

“I wish you could see it.” Chanyeol brushed through Baekhyun’s hair, finding him easily in the darkness. They were in Chanyeol’s bed, curled together under the covers. Baekhyun had asked for a story before they went to sleep. “I’d love to take you—you’d love it, Baek, I _know_ you would. It’s amazing. The fourth night there’s a huge bonfire to mark the middle and the last night there are fireworks as far as the eye can see.”

Baekhyun traced little patterns on Chanyeol’s bare chest. “It sounds like it.”

Chanyeol let out a soft breath. “You’re okay with this? With me?”

“I am.” Baekhyun swallowed. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m not—I’m not too freaked, and I’m not scared. It’s like I _know_ it’s true, like my body has known even if I haven’t? I can’t really explain it.” He pressed close. “Just know that my feelings for you haven’t changed.”

Chanyeol’s lips curved up as he kissed his forehead. “No?”

Baekhyun kissed his neck in response. “No.”

===

Baekhyun was okay with Chanyeol.

He wasn’t okay with the two random beings who teleported into his boyfriend’s living room in the middle of the afternoon.

He let out a shriek and stumbled back into the wall as the two semi-humans looked around the small room, lips pursed disdainfully and eyebrows raised.

“How small.”

“How _cute.”_ One of them looked right at Baekhyun. “What’s _your_ name?”

Baekhyun couldn’t speak, _mortified._ Both the… _beings_ were wearing full armor, red and black with tall boots and fingerless gloves. The armor went up high enough to protect their necks and their chests and shoulders had multiple layers of it for extra protection. There was a belt around their middles and then the rest fell as a long tunic over red pants.

Of course, the most jarring part were the wings. Fully spread, bright red and glowing, and taking up most of the room.

They must be here for Chanyeol.

“Where’s Colonel Park, sweetheart?”

“He’s not a Colonel anymore.” The other phoenix (they must be…considering the wings Baekhyun figures that was the only logical explanation) rolled his eyes and kicked his partner. “Where is he, though?”

“A meeting.” Baekhyun somehow managed to find his voice. “For work. He wasn’t going to be back for a few more hours.”

They both nodded. “I guess we’ll wait, then.”

“Are you just gonna—oh.” Both phoenixes folded their wings and sat on the couch. “Okay.” Baekhyun stared at how their wings draped over the back of the couch, bent at around the halfway point and feathers brushing the floor at the lowest point.

“Alert him that we’re here?” The first phoenix spoke up again, completely nonchalant, as though teleporting into humans’ houses was something he did on the daily. “Tell him to hurry back, we’re here about his trial.”

Baekhyun couldn’t get anything done the whole time Chanyeol was on his way home, having left his meeting as soon as Baekhyun told him the strangers’ names—Zitao and Wonho—feeling their eyes on him.

“So you’re human, then?” The more stoic of the two, Zitao, asked Baekhyun. Baekhyun simply nodded, knowing they could see him from where he was in the kitchen.

He wasn’t _hiding_ , he was just…wary.

Wary of the beings sitting casually on the couch who, if Chanyeol was right, had assisted in performing a _horrible_ ritual on him and casting him away from his home.

“Yeah.” Baekhyun put the plates he’d just gathered from the dishwasher and raised up on his toes to put them in the cabinet, just for something to do. The two phoenixes were completely silent, straight-backed on the couch as they waited in an unnaturally casual way.

Baekhyun stacked a few cups together and he didn’t hear one of the beings enter the room and he jumped, surprised, when a hand fell on his waist and another grabbed the cups out of Baekhyun’s hand to put them on the proper shelf—Baekhyun always gave Chanyeol shit for being too tall and putting his glasses too high.

Baekhyun turned around and the phoenix—Wonho—smiled at him.

“Oh, sorry.” He took a step back, giving Baekhyun space. His wings looked even more cramped in the kitchen but somehow they didn’t hit anything. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Well, thanks.” Baekhyun shouldered around him and pulled out the container that held the utensils, carrying it to the proper drawer to empty it. “But I don’t need your help.”

“Understandable.” Wonho held his hands up in a position of surrender and took a couple more steps back. “We won’t hurt you, you know. We’re not here for you.”

“You’re here for Chanyeol.” Baekhyun slammed the drawer shut. “What do you want? Haven’t you done _enough_ to him?”

“We’re under no obligation to tell you.” Zitao spoke from his place still on the couch, looking around the room curiously. “That information is classified.”

Baekhyun threw his hands up in exasperation and put the container back in the dishwasher.

“We’re not here for a bad reason.” Wonho leaned his forearms against the counter, the extended bar keeping a comfortable distance between himself and Baekhyun. “We’re not going to hurt him, I promise.”

“You already have.” Baekhyun shut the dishwasher. “Do you have _any_ idea what you’ve done to him?”

“We aren’t all assholes.” Wonho got defensive quickly, tensing up. His wings fluttered behind him. “I served under Colonel Park for years, okay, I was hurt when what…happened to him, happened. I was upset. The last thing I want is to cause him more pain.”

“And yet you’re here.”

“You’re making some assumptions, human—”

“Lee, back.” Chanyeol kicked the door shut behind him, voice sharp with a cold edge. _“Away_ from him.”

Wonho kept his glare on Baekhyun for just a moment longer and then returned to the living room. Baekhyun let out a soft, shaky breath, and he heard voices in the living room but tuned them out.

Fuck.

_What the fuck?_

“Baek?” Chanyeol came up next to Baekhyun and wrapped his arms around his waist, shielding him, in a way, from the two in the living room. “Are you okay?”

Baekhyun nodded and curled into Chanyeol for a moment, hands finding his suit jacket and holding it for a source of stability. _Real._

Chanyeol’s right here, and he’s real. Everything’s real.

_Breathe._

“Baek.” Chanyeol ran a soft hand through Baekhyun’s hair and kissed his exposed forehead, holding his fringe back. “Baby, we’re gonna need a while.”

“You’re…”

Chanyeol squeezed Baekhyun for just a moment. “Can you go home, love? Just for a bit?”

“Oh.” Baekhyun cleared his throat. “Oh, of course—yeah. Let me get my stuff?”

Chanyeol stuck with Baekhyun, walking him to the door and then ushering him outside—away from prying eyes to tell him goodbye.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” Chanyeol thumbed over Baekhyun’s cheek absently, sort of distracted.

Baekhyun nodded. “Are you okay?”

Chanyeol just smiled and kissed Baekhyun’s hand. “Ask me again in an hour.”

Baekhyun let Chanyeol kiss him for a minute, hand splaying over his abdomen when he felt him quiver. Chanyeol let out a shaky breath and stood up straight, leaning his forehead against Baekhyun’s. Baekhyun tangled one hand in Chanyeol’s hair and pressed close.

“Call me, okay? As soon as you can.”

Chanyeol nodded, kissed Baekhyun’s forehead, and went back in his apartment without another word.

===

“You’re _what?”_

“Motherfucker.” Chanyeol glared at Zitao. “I told you _I_ would tell him.”

“We haven’t the time to wait—”

 _“Leaving?_ Chanyeol, what the fuck?” Baekhyun yanked his hand out of Chanyeol’s, planting himself in the middle of the living room. The two phoenixes remained on the couch, as nonchalant as ever. “Where are you going?”

“Elyxion.” Wonho piped up. “Our home.”

“They’ve reopened my trial.” Chanyeol ignored the pair and approached Baekhyun, hands finding his cheeks. “I’ve got to go back. I may be getting my title and my effects back.”

“But you…” Baekhyun looked lost, eyes glazing over as he grabbed both of Chanyeol’s wrists to hold his hands in place. “How long will you be gone?”

Chanyeol shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Baekhyun let out a shaky breath, eyes filling with tears, mouth opening and closing a few times.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay.” Chanyeol leaned his forehead against Baekhyun’s. “I won’t be gone forever.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Just as soon as we can.” Zitao stood up and Baekhyun’s eyes widened, reading the universal signal for _it’s time_ and panicking.

 _“No.”_ Baekhyun pressed as close to Chanyeol as he could and Chanyeol cradled him for a moment, brushing through his hair and kissing his head.

“Baek, love, I need you to trust me, okay?” Chanyeol tightened his arms protectively and shot Zitao a look, who rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, looking away from the couple. _“Trust_ me. I’ll come back, okay? I will—but I need you to be brave for me. I need you to _wait_ for me.”

Baekhyun’s grip on Chanyeol’s hoodie—he must have changed sometime after Baekhyun left—tightened and he let out a soft, needy sort of breath.

“Can’t I come with you?”

“No.” Chanyeol was the first to answer, beating Zitao this time. “Absolutely not, Baekhyun.”

 _“Why?”_ Baekhyun tried to push back but Chanyeol’s arms remained strong around him, not letting him get far. “Why can’t I come with you? You’ve wanted to show me your home for months, now, so why—”

 _“Your_ life is _here.”_ Chanyeol defended. His hands skimmed down Baekhyun’s arms to take his hands and he thumbed over the knuckles. “Your job. Your friends. You have to stay with that.”

 _“You’re_ my life, too.” Baekhyun shot back. “You won’t be here. I want to be with you.”

“I know, love, I do.” Chanyeol squeezed his hands. “But listen—baby, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I’ll still be a prisoner for a while—you won’t be _with_ me. I won’t be able to protect you. I won’t put you in danger.”

 _“Please.”_ Baekhyun’s final plea. He said it with a sort of sob and Chanyeol simply hugged him again, cradling his head to his shoulder and rocking him back and forth gently.

“You have my house key.” Chanyeol said softly. “Keep an eye on the place for me, okay? I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, so would you mind checking in on it every couple days? You can raid my closet, if you’d like.” He finished with a light tease, hoping to help calm Baekhyun a bit with it.

“All your hoodies are going to be gone when you get back.” Baekhyun grumbled in response and Chanyeol smiled. Mission accomplished.

Zitao cleared his throat then and Wonho stood up, an apologetic look on his face and Chanyeol sighed, tightening his hold on Baekhyun.

“Baek?”

Baekhyun raised his head and Chanyeol smiled down at him.

“I love you.”

Baekhyun breathed in slowly, trembling. He bit his bottom lip and swallowed in an attempt to keep from crying. “I love you too. So much, ‘Yeol.”

“Will you wait for me?”

“As long as it takes.”

Chanyeol smiled and hooked Baekhyun’s chin, nudging his nose with his own before finally kissing him. Baekhyun fell against him, gripping onto him with everything he had. Baekhyun’s hands found Chanyeol’s hair and Chanyeol’s hands stayed firmly around his back, holding him close.

“I love you.” Chanyeol pecked him once and then stripped out of the hoodie he’d been wearing, leaving him in a t-shirt and jeans. He slipped the sweatshirt over Baekhyun’s head and the fabric was still warm from Chanyeol’s body heat, still smelled strongly of him, and Baekhyun snuggled into it. Chanyeol smiled fondly and thumbed over his cheek, unable to keep from kissing him one more time.

Baekhyun’s eyes, glassy and filled with tears, followed Chanyeol as he stepped back, standing between the two phoenixes.

“You’ll hear from me soon.”

Baekhyun didn’t move as the two phoenixes put one hand on each of Chanyeol’s shoulders and then with a bit of heat, a bright light, and the flutter of feathers, the three disappeared.

Baekhyun fell to his knees and cried, alone in Chanyeol’s living room.


	5. Something Real

_You’ll hear from me soon._

Baekhyun and Chanyeol must have very different definitions of “soon”—Baekhyun had never considered five months “soon.”

Every morning he’d check the date, and he spent everyday checking his phone religiously—even though it had been 147 days since he’d heard from Chanyeol he jumped whenever his phone went off.

Baekhyun had hidden Chanyeol’s own phone and wallet and few other essentials in his nightstand, refusing to even look at them. He checked Chanyeol’s apartment every other day, tossed out the food that went bad—kept the place tidy and clean for when Chanyeol got back.

He never stayed in Chanyeol’s apartment longer than he needed to—the place was too empty, upsettingly quiet, and it left a bad taste in Baekhyun’s mouth since he spent the first few nights of Chanyeol’s disappearance in loneliness, wrapped in the covers that smelled comfortingly like Chanyeol.

Other than that, life went on. Baekhyun worked a few times a week, got called in during a few ungodly hours of the morning, met Mrs. Jung for tea once a week.

 _“Work,”_ Baekhyun had told her when she asked where “Baekhyun’s beautiful man” had gone. _“He’s a big-time producer now, he’s out a lot. This just happens to be one of his busier months.”_

 _“It’s been nearly_ five _months now, dear.”_ Mrs. Jung reached across the table, covering Baekhyun’s hand with her own. Baekhyun had craved a touch like that, but Mrs. Jung’s wasn’t the _right_ touch, and so he broke down right then and there in her kitchen and cried some more.

Baekhyun had printed out a picture of them from that time they went ice skating and framed it right by his bed, and he looked at it longingly every morning and every night.

Chanyeol’s arms had been around him and they’d been in the process of falling, both laughing. In the end, Chanyeol’s quick reflexes had helped him flip on their way down so he fell on his back and Baekhyun onto his chest. The memory made Baekhyun smile, but he couldn’t lie, even to himself—it wasn’t a real smile.

He didn’t think he’d _really_ smile until Chanyeol came home.

“Soon,” he reminded himself as he cut his bedside lamp and rolled over, burrowing into the comfort of one of Chanyeol’s sweatshirts.

“He’ll be back soon.”

===

Baekhyun didn’t think anything of it when someone knocked on his door. He’d babysat for Joohyun over the weekend and so he was expecting her, her daughters, and brownies, as per usual.

The last thing he expected was to see Chanyeol standing in the doorway.

Chanyeol didn’t move—he simply smiled softly at Baekhyun while leaning against the doorway.

“Hi.”

Baekhyun trembled lightly as he looked over Chanyeol—the only thing that looked different was his hair. It was a dark brown now, nearly black, and a bit longer since the last time Baekhyun had seen him. Other than that, though, he looked exactly the same. As though he’d never even left.

“Hi?” Baekhyun echoed softly, finally finding it in himself to meet Chanyeol’s eyes. _“Hi?_ You’ve been away for _five months_ and all you can fucking say is _hi?”_

“Wait—wait, what do you mean five months?” Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed but Baekhyun didn’t even respond.

 _“Fuck_ you.” Baekhyun pushed Chanyeol back. He stumbled out of the doorway and back into the wall. “You couldn’t call? Write? _Nothing?”_

“Baek, listen, I—”

“I thought you were _dead.”_ Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol’s red sweatshirt and pulled him close, _hissing_ at him. “And you come back, knock on my door, and just say _hi?”_

“I thought it was only three weeks.” Chanyeol defended himself softly. His voice broke—now he understood why Baekhyun was so distressed. Upset. He hadn’t even considered a difference in passing of time between their two universes.

Chanyeol’s hands fell onto Baekhyun’s hips carefully, grip loose enough that Baekhyun could shake him off if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

“Where I was it was only three weeks.”

“It’s been _months_ , ‘Yeol.” Baekhyun’s voice cracked and he looked up at Chanyeol with tears in his eyes. “It’s been so fucking long.”

“I’m sorry.” Chanyeol’s hands on Baekhyun’s hips tightened and he walked them out of the hallway, shutting the door with his foot and leaning his forehead against Baekhyun’s. “Baby,” Baekhyun let out a sob and clutched at Chanyeol, “baby, I’m so sorry.”

Baekhyun trembled as he pressed into Chanyeol and Chanyeol wrapped one arm around his back, holding him close now that Baekhyun wasn’t pushing him away anymore.

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun found his voice and his hands came up to cup Chanyeol’s cheeks, skimming his face. “Are you…did they do anything to you?”

“I’m fine, Baek.” Chanyeol caught one of Baekhyun’s hands and kissed the palm, then his wrist, and then he turned it over to kiss his knuckles. “I promise, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” Baekhyun’s other hand fell onto the back of Chanyeol’s neck and Chanyeol smiled softly, nodding.

“You can check me if you want, nurse Byun, but I’m perfectly fine.”

Baekhyun couldn’t help when he chuckled at Chanyeol’s teasing tone and he hid his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck, still trembling.

Chanyeol’s arm around his back tightened and he hooked his chin over Baekhyun’s head.

Here.

_Real._

Chanyeol felt Baekhyun’s warm tears on the side of his neck and he hummed softly, rocking them back and forth. “Please don’t cry, Baekhyun. I’m here. I’m okay.”

“Prove it.” Baekhyun said softly. _“Show_ me that you’re okay, ‘Yeol. I don’t know how—you…” He stuttered to a stop and cupped both of Chanyeol’s cheeks again. “I don’t know.”

Chanyeol leaned his head down and nudged Baekhyun’s nose with his own before kissing him softly.

“I’m okay,” he kissed him again. “I’m perfectly okay.”

Baekhyun shook his head, muttering “not enough” as he pushed up on his toes to kiss Chanyeol again, harder this time—more desperate.

He _needed_ to know that Chanyeol was okay.

Chanyeol pressed Baekhyun back into his front door—just like he had the first time they’d kissed, the memory bringing more tears to Baekhyun’s eyes—and Baekhyun let Chanyeol take control, kissing him senseless.

They eventually moved from the door to Baekhyun’s bedroom, kisses building and building in intensity that Baekhyun was ripping Chanyeol’s shirt over his head the first opportunity he had.

“I missed you.” Chanyeol crawled over Baekhyun on the bed, lips on his neck. _“So_ much.”

 _“God_ , I—I missed you too.” Baekhyun rolled his hips up, grinding against Chanyeol’s.

Chanyeol trailed his lips down Baekhyun’s neck and his naked chest, hand undoing his jeans. “Let me show you?”

“Only if you’re okay.” Baekhyun’s head cleared just enough for him to say that.

“I am.” Chanyeol pressed one more, lingering kiss to Baekhyun’s sternum before pushing down, eye-level with his crotch as he pulled his pants off and tossed them off the bed. “I’ll prove it.”

===

“Baek?”

“Hm?” They hadn’t left the bed in nearly 10 hours, getting reacquainted with each other to make up enough for the five months they’d missed—well, they did get up once to go get drinks from the kitchen. All the crying and releasing of _other_ bodily fluids that were staining Baekhyun’s sheets had forced them to grab some drinks from the kitchen to replenish.

Chanyeol propped his chin on Baekhyun’s chest. “Do you wanna meet my parents?”

Baekhyun’s hand froze from where it had been brushing through Chanyeol’s sweaty, dirty hair. “What?”

“A lot of things got cleared up—I’ll explain later,” Chanyeol sat up on his left elbow, hovering over Baekhyun. He kept him from asking the question he so obviously wanted to by tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb. “But they’re going to be coming to Earth tomorrow to see my apartment and were I’ve been and what I’ve been up to. And they, uh,” Chanyeol swallowed and held unwavering eye contact, “they know you exist. That I found someone.”

“Someone?” Baekhyun’s hand rose up to push Chanyeol’s hair back from where it had started falling over his face.

“Someone _special.”_ Chanyeol amended. “Someone really fucking important to me. Someone I’d really like for them to meet.”

“You really want me to meet them?”

“Are you kidding?” Chanyeol smiled fondly and lowered himself so he could nudge his nose against Baekhyun’s. He then reversed their positions, rolling onto his back and pulling Baekhyun to rest his head on his shoulder. “Of _course_ I do. They gave me the option to stay right then and there when my sentence was lifted.”

Baekhyun’s breath caught and he waited.

“But I told them no.” Chanyeol turned his head and pressed his lips to Baekhyun’s forehead, muttering the next words into the skin. “I promised you I’d come back. And I didn’t want to risk never seeing you again.”

Baekhyun pressed close to Chanyeol, as close as he could. Chanyeol smiled, squeezing his waist. “I love you too much.”

Baekhyun pushed up to kiss Chanyeol then, knees on the bed on either side of his waist, and didn’t stop until he came for the third time that day, hands laced with Chanyeol’s and head back as he cried out and Chanyeol fucked him through it before flooding the condom himself.

“What if they don’t like me?” Baekhyun asked later, sitting on the bathroom counter while Chanyeol adjusted the water coming out of the bathtub faucet. “Your parents.”

“They’ll love you.” Chanyeol put the stopper in the tub and walked over to the counter, right between Baekhyun’s legs. Baekhyun automatically parted them to make room and keep him as close as he could. “I _promise_ they will.”

“Do they know that I’m human, though? Is that not a bad thing that I’m not…” _like you?_

“They know.” Chanyeol’s hands found Baekhyun’s thighs and he rubbed them comfortingly. “Mom wasn’t surprised in the slightest, considering I’ve been here for so long.”

“How long, exactly?”

“Twelve Earth years.” Chanyeol cocked his head. “Time works differently for us on our planet, though. I’ve only been gone for seven years, to my parents, but I really haven’t aged at all.”

Baekhyun blinked up at Chanyeol who simply shook his head. “If I go too far into it then it’ll give you a headache—gives me one if I try to do conversions like that. I talked it out with them, though, so just trust me on this.”

“So how old are you?”

“In Earth years I’m 27, just a year younger than you. I didn’t lie about that.” Chanyeol helped Baekhyun off the counter and then led him to the bathtub, turning the water off. “For my people, though, I’m in my seventies.”

“That makes you a perv.”

Chanyeol laughed as he slipped in the tub behind Baekhyun, arms around his waist to draw him back to lean against his chest. “Does _not.”_ Chanyeol kissed Baekhyun’s forehead. “Our life spans are much longer, though, so I’m essentially the same age in phoenix years. The rank of a nearly 30-year-old.”

“So your days are, what, three days of Earth days?”

“No, our day is about the same length. I just live in a different galaxy, remember? The day length feels the same, which is why I thought I’d only been gone a few weeks, but I guess the space-time continuum is different across galaxies.”

“Don’t—this is confusing.” Baekhyun agreed with Chanyeol’s earlier statement. “Just…stop it.”

Chanyeol hummed and the two fell into a comfortable silence. Baekhyun almost didn’t want to break it, but he couldn’t help it.

“So what happened while you were gone?”

Chanyeol let out a breath and leaned his head against the wall. “I spent the first week being home in prison.” Baekhyun tensed up and Chanyeol massaged his waist softly, calming him back down. “My trial lasted one and a half, and I spent the last bit at home settling some things.”

“So…what now?”

“I’ve been reinstated. I’m a colonel again of the army, meaning I’ll need to return back periodically to help with trainings considering I can’t be in the field anymore. Without wings…” Chanyeol’s voice droned off and he leaned his head against Baekhyun’s.

“You couldn’t get them back?”

Chanyeol shook his head. “They’re gone. They’re a living part of my kind—it’s like losing an arm. The wings were already disintegrating as they were removing them, there’s no way they’ve lasted this long.”

Baekhyun turned his head and pressed as far into Chanyeol as he could. “I’m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay.” Chanyeol blinked rapidly a few times. “I still get to go back home, and that’s—that’s what really matters.”

Baekhyun bit his lip. “How long are you going to be gone?”

“I don’t know.” Chanyeol held Baekhyun tightly. “If three weeks for me was five months for you, then a long time. Perhaps a month at a time?”

“Oh.” Chanyeol kissed the crown of Baekhyun’s head.

“I won’t ask you to wait for me.” Chanyeol murmured. “I never should’ve done it in the first place.”

“You don’t have to ask.” Baekhyun caught Chanyeol’s chin and turned him to face himself. “I _will.”_

“That’s not fair to you.” Chanyeol shook out of Baekhyun’s grip. “You shouldn’t have to wait an entire month for me for just a month being _with_ me.”

“But I want to.” Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol’s chin and kissed him. “I love you, Chanyeol. And I’ll wait as long as I need to. For you.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Chanyeol leaned his forehead against Baekhyun’s.

“You don’t deserve a lot of what’s happened to you.” Baekhyun murmured. “I’m not one of those things. You do deserve me. It’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”

Chanyeol shut him up with another kiss.

===

“What if they don’t like me?”

“What’s not to like, sweetheart.” Mrs. Jung set her cup back in her saucer. “I mean, look at you. You’re handsome, sweet, have a good job, steady income—your own place. You’re a _wonderful_ boyfriend, Baekhyun.”

“Mrs. Jung you don’t—these are Chanyeol’s _parents_ we’re talking about, here.” Baekhyun’s head fell back and he ran his hands over his face in despair. “They’re coming from overseas to see what he’s been up to, and they want to meet me, and knowing Chanyeol he’s talked me up and made me sound like a _great_ guy and they’ll meet me and—”

“And love you all the same.” Mrs. Jung calmed him expertly—this isn’t the first time she’s had to deal with his mental breaks. “Have you talked to Chanyeol about how you’re feeling?”

“He just says I’m being paranoid. It’s not like they’ll be able to stay long, anyway. They’ll just be here for the day, really, and they’re going to stop by to meet me and visit for a bit and then Chanyeol’s going to take them to some of his favorite places around the city.” Baekhyun fixed Mrs. Jung with a look. “These ten minutes could make or _break_ us, Mrs. Jung. What if he leaves me if his parents don’t approve?”

“That boy came back after five months just for _you.”_ Mrs. Jung shook her head and poured Baekhyun more tea. “I think it’ll take a lot more than just his parents not being your biggest fans for him to drop you. Don’t drink that yet it’s—”

_“Ow!”_

“—still hot.”

===

_Can we head over?_

“Fuck.” Baekhyun pulled on a dark green cardigan over his white t-shirt, glancing at himself in the mirror. Paired with his dark jeans he looked nice. Put together.

Perfect for a good first impression on his boyfriend’s phoenix parents.

_Yeah. Just knock._

Baekhyun slipped his phone in his back pocket and ran his hands through his hair a bit, touching it up to make sure he looked good last minute before—

There was a knock on his door then and Baekhyun took one last deep breath before jogging over and opening it with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” The first thing Chanyeol—stupid fucking Chanyeol—did was cup Baekhyun’s cheeks and kiss him.

Right in front of his parents.

“Don’t.” Baekhyun shot Chanyeol a look and swatted at his chest, terrified for a split second before he heard laughter from behind him.

 _“Move,_ Park Chanyeol. Let me get a look at the darling.” A woman just a couple inches shorter than Baekhyun himself stepped forward, taking both Baekhyun’s hands in her own wrinkled ones. She smiled brightly up at Baekhyun with a smile exactly like Chanyeol’s—even her eyes creased the same way as she did—and Baekhyun smiled back.

“Oh, you’re lovely.” She squeezed his hands and then pulled him in for a hug, trembling slightly. Baekhyun wrapped his arms around her back, worried she’d fall if he didn’t. “It’s so wonderful to meet you, Baekhyun. Chanyeol’s told us so much about you already.”

 _“Mom.”_ Chanyeol warned with a nervous laugh. “We don’t have to get into that.”

“Can’t we?” Baekhyun looked up at Chanyeol when Mrs. Park pulled away and smiled innocently.

Chanyeol glared back. _“No.”_

Baekhyun took a step back after shaking hands with Chanyeol’s father, getting an equally warm greeting and bright smile as that which he’d received from his mom. “Would you like to come in?”

“Chanyeol?” Mrs. Park folded her hands and turned to look at her son.

“I was actually hoping to take you for a walk in the park, and we’re already losing daylight.” Chanyeol checked his watch. “Maybe we can come back later?”

“Or,” Mrs. Park reached forward and grabbed Baekhyun’s hand. “Won’t you come with us?”

“Really?” Baekhyun looked between the three Parks, lastly at Chanyeol, who smiled brightly at him and nodded, mouthing _“if you want.”_

“I’d love to.”

“Brilliant!” Mrs. Park shot him that dazzling smile again, and Baekhyun couldn’t help but smile back.

“Won’t you come in while I grab my shoes and things?” Baekhyun stepped aside and welcomed the Parks inside. Chanyeol entered last, pulling him into his side for just a moment while his parents wandered around the nurse’s living room.

“They love you.” Chanyeol murmured, pressing his lips to Baekhyun’s forehead. “I knew they would, but this just proves it.”

“You think so?” Baekhyun watched as Mrs. Park cooed at a picture of him and his brother he had on the table beside the couch.

“I _know_ so. Go grab your stuff, baby, so we can head out.” Baekhyun let Chanyeol kiss him softly and then he grabbed his wallet and pulled his shoes on, popped his sunglasses on top of his head, and met the phoenix family—a sentence he never thought he’d experience—in the living room.

Chanyeol held his hand comfortingly as he led his parents down the sidewalk in the park that he and Baekhyun enjoyed frequenting, and then he sort of branched forward with his dad—both with equally long legs—leaving Baekhyun and Mrs. Park behind to get to know each other more.

“So, Baekhyun, what is it you do?” Mrs. Park’s voice didn’t sound judgmental at all, and the softness to it put Baekhyun at ease.

“I’m a nurse at the local hospital.” Baekhyun responded, hands in his pockets. “Emergency care.”

“Oh, wonderful.” Mrs. Park smiled. “Do you enjoy it, then?”

“I do.” Baekhyun smiled. “You know, the first time me and Chanyeol really ever talked was when I was at work.”

“He’s always been one to get himself into trouble.” Mrs. Park smiled fondly. “What had he done that time?”

“Oh, it was for a friend of his, actually.”

Mrs. Park hummed playfully. _“That’s_ certainly a surprise.”

Baekhyun was about to say something else when Mrs. Park stopped suddenly, grabbing Baekhyun’s wrist. “You’re a wonderful young man.” She said with a smile, meeting his eyes. “Truly. And I know you haven’t been in his life for long but…but he loves you. He really, truly does.”

Baekhyun didn’t say anything but held Mrs. Park’s hands, stepping into the grass beside the sidewalk to keep the path clear.

“You should’ve seen his eyes light up when he told us about you—about how he’d found someone, and he was going back for him. How he’d promised to return to him.” Mrs. Park’s hands trembled as she squeezed Baekhyun’s. “I know you haven’t been around long but—but thank you.”

Baekhyun wrapped his arms around Mrs. Park when she started crying softly, squeezing her back when she squeezed his waist.

He didn’t want to even _try_ to imagine what she’d gone through all these years—not hearing from Chanyeol, from her youngest child, unsure if he was even _alive_ for years, only to have him called back and his sentence revoked for being unfair when the damage had already been done. He squeezed tighter and took a deep, shaky breath.

“My son hasn’t been alone all these years.” Her voice cracked as she held Baekhyun. _“Thank you.”_

Chanyeol and Mr. Park were surprised to see tears on both of their faces when the two finally caught up to them, both taking their partner under their arms.

“Did she say something?” Chanyeol wiped at a stray tear with his thumb under Baekhyun’s left eye. “Are you okay?”

Baekhyun pressed close and tucked his face in the crook of Chanyeol’s neck. “Never better.”

===

“Mom’s been asking about you.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun looked up with a smile. Chanyeol had just gotten back from another month back home, and Baekhyun had missed seeing him wander around their— _their_ apartment. It had been nearly two years they’d been together, after all. It was a natural step. “How is she?”

“She’s good.” Chanyeol draped himself over Baekhyun’s back and rested his chin on his shoulder. “Her and Dad both. Dad got a promotion—he’s working in the Council building now.”

Baekhyun hummed. “Good. Maybe he can keep what happened to you from happening again.”

“That’s the hope.” Chanyeol kissed the side of Baekhyun’s head softly. “Would you like to come with me next time?”

Baekhyun had been to Chanyeol’s world just a couple of times and every time he’d absolutely loved it—loved the people, loved the ambiance, loved absolutely everything. It seemed to get harder and harder to leave each time it was time to come back—back to the boring world Baekhyun had grown up in.

They even had a house over there—a house that was all theirs.

“Do we have to come back?”

Chanyeol froze, squeezing Baekhyun’s waist. “What do you mean?”

“I _mean.”_ Baekhyun broke the hold and turned around, facing Chanyeol. “What if we moved there?”

“Moved.” Chanyeol cocked his head, holding eye contact with Baekhyun. “You mean like…”

“Permanently.” Baekhyun finished for him. “Yeah. I just—I feel better there. Like that’s where we’re supposed to be—us, together. Does that make sense?”

“It does.” Chanyeol smiled and pressed close. “It absolutely does—I know what you mean. I’ve been feeling it too, but I never wanted to pressure you into feeling like you _have_ to come with me or anything.”

“Are you kidding?” Baekhyun hooked his hands around the back of Chanyeol’s neck. “Nothing would make me happier than being there, with you. Forever.”

“Forever.” Chanyeol leaned his forehead against Baekhyun’s. “I really like the sound of that.”

Baekhyun pressed against Chanyeol. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Chanyeol kissed him softly. “Do you want to? Move there? Live there with me for the rest of our lives?”

“Are you proposing, too?” Baekhyun smiled and Chanyeol chuckled.

“I guess I am.” Chanyeol lifted Baekhyun onto the counter and looked him right in the eye. “If you’ll say yes, that is. If you’ll say no then no, I’m not proposing.”

Baekhyun laughed and swatted at Chanyeol’s chest. “Make up your mind, asshole.”

Chanyeol caught Baekhyun’s hands and kissed his knuckles before he could hit him anymore. “In that case—Baekhyun, will you marry me? Will you stay with me in my world that you are so wholeheartedly a part of already?”

Baekhyun had never believed in fairytales. Baekhyun’s only ever believed in things he could see, touch, _feel._

Things that were _real_.

And Baekhyun’s never felt anything more _real_ than what he felt for Chanyeol, in this moment and forever going forward.

“Yes.”  



	6. Something Wonderful

=== 7 years later ===

Baekhyun smiled and leaned back on his hands, watching the two kids run around. They lifted off every few seconds and hovered in the air, little wings fluttering rapidly to keep them off the ground and then they’d take off running again when they touched back down—giggling and squealing the whole time.

It was a nice day, Baekhyun thought as he leaned back on his hands and angled his head up at the sky. The sun was out and the sky was clear and bright blue, perfect weather for the kids to stay up and out and tire themselves out.

Made it that much easier to send them to bed at night.

“Daddy!”

Baekhyun’s eyes opened and he turned around, smiling when he saw Chanyeol walking around the side of their house, sharp uniform glinting in the bright light.

“I was supposed to be a surprise.” Chanyeol pouted dramatically and dropped to his knees, arms wide open for his kids to fall into. They took the invitation and Chanyeol, ever strong and sturdy from his years in the military, lifted up one easily on each hip to walk closer to where Baekhyun was still sitting.

“A surprise?” Baekhyun questioned softly when Chanyeol got close enough that they could speak without having to raise their voices at all.

“I’m off early.” Chanyeol set the kids down and, after getting a kiss from each of them and then giving them both one in return, sent them off so he could join Baekhyun on the ground. _“And_ I’m off tomorrow.”

“Really?” Baekhyun smiled and then kissed Chanyeol, greeting him _properly_ and welcoming him home from another long day of either training or meetings. He was never sure—he just knew it wasn’t what Chanyeol truly wanted.

His husband missed being out in the field so badly it _hurt_ him to remember what he’d once had, but he was still doing the best he could by training the new recruits and attending strategizing meetings with the rest of the head team.

There wasn’t much else he could do without his wings, though, for even after they returned and did some asking around, some research and some digging, there was no way for Chanyeol to get his wings back. They’d disintegrated as soon as Chanyeol had left their universe the first time, their ashes spread where all the other wings’ ashes were—a valley far off the map, hidden from the public.

Baekhyun and Chanyeol had gone to visit it together, give Chanyeol some closure, but the place had felt so cold, so dark and _wrong_ that they hadn’t stayed long and then spent the evening in the warmth and comfort of each other in their new house.

“Really.” Chanyeol sat right next to Baekhyun, slipping out of his boots and standing them aside so his feet could relax. He stretched his legs out in front of him with a sigh and a tired hum, head falling back. “We could go out to dinner tonight? All of us?”

“We’ll need to give the kids a bath first.” Right then there was a hard thump and both parents’ heads snapped up to see Jongin, the younger of the two, fall to the ground. He rolled a bit and then popped right back up—covered in mud.

Baekhyun sighed. Jongin smiled and waddled after his brother, Jongdae, who’d paused just enough for Jongin to catch up before spreading his wings and taking off again.

“Have they been out long?”

Baekhyun shuffled closer to Chanyeol and leaned his head on his shoulder—he’d taken off his shoulder armor, too, and set it aside. He nodded.

“It’s been a while. It’s just such a nice day, I’d hate it to go to waste.” Baekhyun watched Jongdae hold Jongin’s hand as they hovered for a minute. “They’ve so much energy, anyway. I don’t want them flying around and breaking something in the house.”

Chanyeol snorted. “Did my mom ever tell you how I took out the living room central light?”

“What? No.” Baekhyun laughed and looked up at Chanyeol, meeting his eyes. “Why have I been kept out of the loop on this?”

“My sister dared me that I couldn’t fly high enough to hit the ceiling.” Chanyeol smiled fondly at the memory. “So I did it. I hit the ceiling—but of course Mom only focused on the broken fixture.”

“God, you’re a mess.” Baekhyun snorted and shook his head. “How’d you even make it into the army in the first place?”

“Hell if I know.” They were so close that Chanyeol couldn’t help when he turned his head to kiss Baekhyun’s forehead—it was _right there_ , after all. And he never missed an opportunity to shower his darling husband in affection.

It was never enough, Chanyeol told him one day, nearly half a year after they’d moved, collectively, to Elyxion. Chanyeol needed to be home for work and for his people and Baekhyun…

Well, Baekhyun needed to be with Chanyeol. And that was the end of that conversation.

Chanyeol would forever be grateful for all that his husband had been willing to give up—limited contact with his family and even more limited travelling between their two worlds—and he’d never miss an opportunity to show Baekhyun, and to thank him.

For it’s because they moved that they were able to have two wonderful, beautiful children—had they not moved here with the phoenix doctors then Baekhyun never would’ve been able to get pregnant in the first place, no human doctor would know how to handle not only a pregnant male but two nonhuman babies.

Baekhyun didn’t want the explanation about how being exposed to the magic on Elyxion and how Chanyeol’s dominant genes were able to impregnate him—all that mattered was that he wasn’t alone, he had a wonderful husband to help him through _both_ his terms, and their children were happy and healthy.

Like with everything else he’d been dealing with since first discovering Chanyeol’s true form Baekhyun took it in stride.

“Do you _want_ to go out to dinner tonight?” Chanyeol nudged him, bringing him back to the present. “We could always stay in if you’d rather do that.”

“Let’s go out.” Baekhyun draped his legs over Chanyeol’s. “I’m not in the mood to watch you nearly burn the house down since you can’t cook, and I certainly don’t want to do dishes tonight.”

“That was _one time.”_ Chanyeol pressed his nose to Baekhyun’s. “And it was when we were still on earth—how long are you going to hold that over my head?”

“Until it stops being relevant.” Baekhyun responded, reaching up to cup Chanyeol’s cheek. Chanyeol smiled and leaned in and caught Baekhyun’s lips in a kiss, pressing against him with a soft sound and Baekhyun smiled into him, happy.

Perfectly content with exactly where he was at the moment.

“Daddy!” Jongin fell into Baekhyun’s lap while Jongdae barrelled into Chanyeol, splitting the parents as they both focused on catching one child each and keep them from sprawling over the ground. “Daddy, watch. I’m getting better.”

“Yeah?” Chanyeol stood up and let Jongdae lead him to a clearing. “Okay, hon. Let’s see.”

Baekhyun ran a hand through Jongin’s hair and thumbed at some of the dried mud on his cheeks as he watched Jongdae lift off the ground, little red wings working to keep him up. Chanyeol smiled proudly and held his arms out, catching Jongdae when he fell into them with a laugh.

 _“That’s_ my boy,” Baekhyun heard him say from a distance. “Look at you. Daddy’s so proud.”

Jongin let out a short, distressed sound and pointed at Jongdae, to which Baekhyun simply laughed and held his little hands. “Soon, baby. Soon you’ll be a big boy just like hyung, hm?”

Jongin giggled and clapped and Baekhyun kissed his head, wrapping him up in his arms as Chanyeol kept playing with Jongdae in the yard, now on his back on the ground as Jongdae threw fake punches at him—that would be a problem later, teaching their son to fight at five.

That was a worry for another time, though. For now Baekhyun watched his little family be happy together, rolling in the grass under the bright sun with a smile.

Park Chanyeol from down the hall really was completely, utterly, and absolutely perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter/cc: emberloey


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